


Leaving Home Ain't Easy

by Bolts_of_nice



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian is very clever but a little clueless, Brian makes too many decisions based on books he wants to read, Freddie is Freddie, Implied Sexual Content, John is a badass, M/M, Post Apocalyptic AU, Roger is roger, angsty, graphic fighting and injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 42,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolts_of_nice/pseuds/Bolts_of_nice
Summary: “Meet Freddie Mercury. Communications liaison and squad leader. Then Roger Taylor, combat specialist. Brian May will be your field technician. And this-” he gestured to the brunette next to him, “is John Deacon.”John’s face didn’t change as he was introduced.“And what exactly does John do?”“I have a gun.”“Not to be misjudging your qualifications, dear, but don’t we all get a gun?”“I’m very good at using a gun.”Or Brian leaves home to join the army and make something of himself in the post apocalyptic world. He makes some interesting friends along the way.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 95
Kudos: 155





	1. There's a road ahead

In the dictionary that Brian’s father had given him, an ‘apocalypse’ was defined as being “a very serious event resulting in great destruction and change.” 

In the bible he had found lying in the street, the apocalypse was the total destruction and the end of the world. 

In reality, the apocalypse wasn’t either of those things. 

At least, to Brian it wasn’t. 

Brian was born a year after the war. A year after the day when the bombs fell. How could there be destruction and change when he had never experienced the world that existed before? His father would tell him that some things were better after the apocalypse. That the people- at least the people in their civilisation- were happier. 

Brian wasn’t happy. His life was good, he couldn’t deny that. He knew that he was much more privileged than most, that he had enough to eat and a life set out for him. 

But he wasn’t content. It was his parents fault really, they had given him books, told him everything they knew about the old world, about science, nature and the stars. For him, it wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t allow himself to stagnate. He wasn’t ready to contribute to humanity by just being the next generation. 

He had to do something more. Hands shaking as he stepped through his front door and shut it behind him, Brian readied himself for the aftershocks of the biggest decision of his life.

Sat side by side at the table in their kitchen, his parents said nothing as Brian wandered in. He glanced briefly at the documents he had left on the table, already signed. Leaving it for them to find out was easier than telling them directly.

Midway through taking off his long woollen coat, he stopped, and met his father's eyes. Grey and stern, with an expression Brian had never seen before. Not anger. Fear.

“Dad-” He began to speak, but stopped as his mother grabbed his father's hand. 

“Brian sweetheart,” she sounded choked as if holding back tears, “We’re not cross with you, but we need to know why.”

Sighing softly, Brian took off the rest of his coat, and hung it on the back of the chair. “You know why, mum.” 

“People die in the cities. What if you don’t come home?”

As she spoke she looked to her husband. Pleading him to say something to change Brian’s mind. 

“I’ll be home, I promise.” He held out a hand and stroked his mother's hair comfortingly. It was like his own, dark brown and wildly untameable. “Besides, I’ll only be going as a technician. They won’t put me anywhere too dangerous.”

His father coughed. “This is the army, Brian. They’ll put you anywhere they want to. And haven’t you heard the radio broadcast? The threats to London? It isn’t like living in our civilisation.” 

“Honey, couldn’t you just withdraw your application?” The interruption to Brian’s father’s rant was needed, but the softness to his mother’s voice even more painful. “Please?”

Brian shook his head. He wasn't sure whether or not he could, but he wasn't about to change his mind on the matter.

“Is this that fucking Taylor boy again? Did he pressure you into this?” Pushing his seat out from behind him, Brian's father stomped to the window to peer at the house opposite.

“No, Dad,” he sighed again, staying calm despite the rise in tension, “this is my choice.”

If anything, Brian had persuaded Roger to sign up. The boy from just across the road with a reputation for a short temper had moved in only a few years earlier. Along with his mother, sister and a bunch of other refugees, he had come from one of the more militant civilisations. Many people, Brian’s father included, weren’t too happy about the arrival of a bunch more people, especially ones with such violent history. Brian hadn’t cared. Roger was a laugh and a good friend. 

“How much longer do we have with you?” His mother whispered after a long pause.

“I’ll be taken to the boot camp tomorrow.”

That was the final straw, as it turned out, before his mother started crying. Elbows on the window ledge, his father buried his face in his hands, and Brain was left standing sheepishly, feeling guilty, as neither of them would look at him.

“I’ll be home,”

“I promise.”

\----------

Roger met him at the pick up point the next morning. He ran in through the small crowd that had built up and practically knocked brian over. 

“Early as ever, Rog.” Brian muttered as he picked up his rucksack.

“Fuck off. Nobody bothered to wake me up, did they?” To his credit, Roger had managed to look vaguely presentable despite just waking up. He had a shirt on, which was more than most days, and his hair was brushed. Blond hair almost longer than Brian’s, and he looked distinctly feminine with his glittery pink shoes, and a tiny pink backpack. 

“Is that all you're taking with you?” Brian asked, gesturing to the bag.

“Yeah.” Dust kicked up into the air as Roger ran his feet through the dirt. “Don’t need to pack a hundred pairs of clogs like you do, do I?” 

He scoffed. “I’ve only got two pairs of clogs with me. Have you not brought any clothes?”

“I’m wearing them.” Smile plastered across his face, he looked vaguely proud. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re disgusting?”

“You, all the time? It's the apocalypse, Brian, I don't think they’re gonna care that I've not brought formal attire with me.”

"I might care if I'm having to share a tent with the sweatiest man in the south of England." 

Snarky jabs continuing for a good few minutes, their harshness intensifying as Brian toed the line of Roger's temper exploding. It was only when Brian spotted the bus that he stopped, mouth falling open as he watched the machine rumble into his view.

"I think this is us, Rog." He muttered as the automobile brought up the dust around them. "Are you sure you want to do this." 

"And join Brian May on his magical tour of the world? Definitely." Roger smiled, pushing in front of Brian to get on the bus. 

Turning and looking in the direction of his home, Brian took a second to think. Where he had lived his whole life, where his parents had kept him sheltered from the horrors of the world. They hadn't even seen him off. They couldn't bare it, apparently, but any feelings of guilt had gone. Brian was doing something for himself, something meaningful for the world. 

He took one last look at his old civilisation, and didn't look back as he joined Roger on the bus.

\----------

Having never left the civilisation before, Brian was unaware how different the world outside was. His father had told him that England used to be green, filled with forests and pastures. Now it was mainly a reddish-orange, an after effect of the day the bombs fell. The sky was hot and there was not a building to be seen until they reached the next civilisation. 

Another three men joined the six already on the bus, and they set off once again into the wastelands. 

It was exciting. Brian leaned his head against the cracked window of the bus and watched the landscape go by. He longed to see a city, and he knew he was on the journey to do so. 

Next to him, Roger was sat staring at an empty can that had been left in the chair in front. Other than his leg was bouncing up and down, there was little engagement to the outside world. 

"You alright Rog?" 

"Huh?" He turned round to face Brian. "Yeah, fine." 

"You look anxious." 

"I'm fine. Nothing could scare me." 

The conversation fizzled out there. Nobody else on the bus spoke a word. Brian and Roger were the only two that sat next to each other. It was completely quiet except for the coughing of the engine. 

Brian turned to look out the window again, and watched as some sort of animal ran past. He didn't know what it was, almost like a black and white dog, but he had never seen anything like it before, and that excited him. He made a mental note to find out what it was when he finally got the ability to research. 

\----------

They arrived at the boot camp about an hour later. Nothing more than a few wooden huts and some tents surrounding a makeshift training course, as the army wasn't funded by anyone. The people, like himself, who had signed up were all volunteers. People who wanted to see the world, people who wanted to make a difference. Sometimes people who wanted something to do besides rot away in one of the civilisations.

All the new recruits were lined up in the training area. Brian's height made him stick out like a sore thumb. People born after the war weren't tall. Never enough food to feed everyone. Unless you were well off, such as Brian’s parents who could afford to feed him. The result was growing up to be taller than anyone around him. 

Looking small in the crowd but standing tall and to attention, Roger stood next to him. Brian wondering whether he was trained like this at his old civilisation. He'd never asked- didn't think it proper, and it wasn't like Roger ever brought it up. 

The line up seemed to take forever. Each person was targeted individually. Being called a lanky kid was nothing new to Brian, but Roger flinched after being called a pretty girl. Either way, he didn't fight back like Brian had expected. 

Only one person in the line said anything in response. It was one of the men standing behind Brian who gave a genuine 'thank you' after being told he looked like a fancy boy. He was ordered an immediate fifty press-ups, which to his credit he did (if with a continuous commentary, Brian found it difficult to hold back the chuckle, Roger didn't even try to disguise his laugh). 

As the punished man complained about getting his white shirt dusty, the rest of the group were sent to get rations and bedding, then allocated their training groups. 

Thankfully, Brian and Roger were in the same division. Having only mentioned it briefly to the recruiter, he was glad the message had been passed on. They were both handed a patch with the number 39 stitched into it, then lead to find the rest of their team.

The Army trained in teams. You learnt together, and everybody fulfilled their own roles. And if one person failed the training, the rest of the team failed as well. Brian hoped the remainder of his group were capable. 

His heart dropped when he saw the first of his new acquaintances. 

White outfit now a slight orange colour, the man who had answered back swanned over and immediately kissed Brian's hand. 

"Hello darling. I believe that we are part of the same squad." 

Brian nodded, dumbfounded. 

“Freddie.” He dramatically moved the curtain of his dark fringe out of his eyes.

“Brian. And er- this is Roger-” Brian turned to look to the blonde who was bouncing up on the spot.

Pulling him in for a hug, Freddie smiled. “Pleasure.”

Roger was a dark shade of pink. “Yeah. Same.” 

“So we’re just missing one then, are we?”

“I believe so.” Looking around to try and locate the fourth member of their team, Brian squinted in the bright sun. “Do you think they’re late or lost or-”

Luckily, Brian’s fear that their squad would be full of troublemakers turned out to be incorrect. The fourth person was accompanied by one are the sergeants who he was chatting to quietly. Expression unreadable, chest-length mousy hair hiding most of his face. 

After being ordered forward by the sergeant, Brian complied immediately, with Roger and Freddie following shortly after. The sergeant cleared his throat, and addressed the group.

“Squad 39, welcome to the training division of the New English Army. My name is Jim Beach, I’ll be your commanding officer.” He looked down at the clipboard he was carrying. “I’ll assume you three have acquainted yourselves-”

Brian nodded. 

“Excellent.” He looked to Freddie, then to the man next to him. “Meet Freddie Mercury. Communications liaison and squad leader. Then Roger Taylor, combat specialist. Brian May will be your field technician. And this-” he gestured to the brunette next to him, “is John Deacon.”

John’s face didn’t change as he was introduced. 

After waiting a significant amount of time for more information about the latest member of the team, Brian finally asked the question on all of their minds. “And what exactly does John do?”

“I have a gun.”

Freddie held up a hand as if he was considering whether or not to make a point. In the end he said it anyway. “Not to be misjudging your qualifications, dear, but don’t we all get a gun?” 

“I’m very good at using a gun.” 

Brain wondered whether he should be scared of this man. He was certainly glad that he wasn’t fighting him.

John held out a hand to Brian who took it and received a gentle handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Brian.”

“Shit I’m starving.” Yawning, Roger diffused the tension that was building. “Did they say when dinner was gonna be?”

“We’ve just eaten, darling.” 

“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t eat again.” 

Jim, who was stood off to the side, sighed. “Bags in your tent please, boys. Training starts at fourteen hundred hours.” 

“Great. I’m gonna waste away.” Roger mumbled, wandering off to get his stuff. 

Brian waited as Freddie followed eagerly and John trailed after. Not elated by his newest companions, he watched as they walked away. It didn’t matter who he had to spend his time with, so long as they all passed, he would finally see the world.


	2. Shaking dust from my shoes

Brian awoke the next day with his blanket missing, and Roger’s arm lying across his face. In the dark of the tent he could just make out Freddie, evidently the source of blanket thievery, curled up next to Roger. John slept at the other side of the tent, away from the others. 

Hairs on his arms stood up from the chill of the morning air, Brian wondered if John was cold, all by himself. He seemed to sacrifice comfort to keep away from the rest of them. 

Teamwork was going well so far.

Grabbing a bar of soap from the top pocket of his bag, Brian peeked out of the tent and looked at the sky. The stars were still visible in the early morning haze.

He shuffled out into the morning as quietly as he could, heading to the shower block before it got too busy. The water was cold and the same colour of the sand outside. Even so, it felt good to be clean after the running of yesterday evening. 

It was just as he did up the first button on his shirt that he was interrupted.

“Hi Brian.” Came the voice, then nothing else afterwards. 

It took him a second to realise it was John speaking to him. The man had spoken so little over the past few hours, his voice was quiet and unrecognisable. 

“Hey John. I didn’t wake you up did I?”

John raised his head as if confused. “No.” 

With that one word he turned and headed into the closest shower. Brian was left to dry his hair and wonder what time roll call was in the morning. 

\----------

As it turned out, roll call was much too late for the sleeping schedules of the other two members of their team. The half an hour warning was called, and Brian was yet to see Freddie or Roger. Half considering going and getting them, he decided the need also to finish his porridge was greater, so instead he sat opposite John as they both sat in silence and ate. 

The two trouble makers did show up to the square, later than anyone else in the training division. Looking at it, Roger probably could have snuck in at the back unnoticed. Unfortunately, Freddie made going unnoticed impossible. 

Arms above his head, practically dancing in his approach, Freddie appeared to have spent a while grooming his dark hair, and was wearing what looked like eyeliner. “Everybody I am so sorry that we are late - you sir especially, but no harm done I suppose, and-” 

“Names.” The commander's voice was quiet, but piercing. 

Freddie gasped. “I’m sorry?”

“What are your names?”  
“Oh, well I’m Freddie Mercury, and this is Roger Taylor.”

Roger visibly sighed at the mention of his own name. 

“Thank you, Mercury and Taylor, for volunteering to clean the bathroom block this evening.” Dismissing them immediately with a shake of the hand, he went back to shouting as he had been before. “Now in line!” 

Brian turned to John as their teammates shuffled sheepishly through the crowd. For the first time since he had got here, John was actually smiling. 

\----------

“It was Freddie’s fucking fault! It wasn’t my fault!” 

“Roger, I couldn’t care less about who’s fault it was, can you just stop talking for one second so all of us don't end up late for laps this afternoon.” Brian sighed. He was trying to finish the pile of eggs on his plate before they had to get back to the training area.

“But I don’t want to clean the bathroom.” 

Brian didn't even answer him. 

“Brian!” Roger was pouting. 

“If you’re not even bothered to get up on time, what are you doing here?” John, who as per usual had been sat silently, asked bluntly. “It’s not that difficult Roger.”

“Besides love, who wouldn’t want to spend a night in the bathroom with me?” Winking, Freddie leant on the table and shuffled towards his sulking companion.

The blond looked round at the rest of them, and slammed his cutlery down onto the metal plate. “Fine! Fuck you guys!" Scowling, he stood up and looked at Brian. “Don’t expect me to pick up your sorry arse during this run.”

“Don’t be late daring!” Freddie called out jokily as Roger stormed out of the mess hall. He then turned back to the table and spoke more quietly. “I don’t know about you lot, but I am not in the mood for running this afternoon. Do you think anyone would notice if I didn’t turn up?”

“Definitely.” The eggs on Brian's plate were getting cold. He stirred them around with his fork. “Fred, why are you joining the army anyway? No offence to you, but you don’t really seem the type.”

“The thrill my dear! I’m here to change lives.” 

Freddie did have a point. There weren't many ways people could have fun or make a difference anymore. Leaving your civilisation was frowned upon, and transport was practically non-existent. People who made it big, the people who were something in this world, were either one of two things. Heroes or criminals. 

“How about you Brian? I’ll assume you’re not here for athletics.”

Brian scoffed. “No, not at all. I’m hoping we’ll get placed somewhere near one of the old cities, I’ve always had a fascination with world history- you know, what it was like before the bombs fell. John?”

“What?” He looked up from his plate. 

“Why are you here?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just good at what I do.”

“Come on dear, there must be more of a reason than that. Nobody puts themselves into peril just because they’re good at something.”

“I do.” It was said with a sarcastic smile and a tilt of the head.

Saying nothing, Freddie looked at Brian with a comical expression, eyebrows raised.

“Right then guys, we should probably get going. We can’t have Roger being earlier than us, can we?” Brain stood up, wanting to leave before John did anything else mildly threatening. 

\----------

Brian was not good at running. He wasn’t built for it, legs and arms much too long and with no muscles to speak of. 

Still cross and athletic as ever, Roger sprinted off and instantly took to the front of the pack. John was surprisingly quick as well, despite his rather weak and mousey appearance. Even Freddie, who had been complaining nonstop about the run and was sporting a pair of heeled boots, managed to keep up with the group. 

That left Brian. 

Chest burning, he could taste iron in his mouth. Everything was telling him to stop. 

“May!” 

The sound of his own name was barely audible through the ringing in his ears. 

“Stop slacking! If you’re not caught up with the rest of your squad in thirty seconds it’ll be ten more laps.”

The threat of more running was enough to make him go faster, but not enough to take away the pain. He picked up his feet as much as he could, the clouds of dust that kicked up as he did making his head spin. 

It didn’t matter though, no amount of effort was going to make himself quick enough to catch up. 

Just as he was resigning himself for running until he passed out, it was as if a miracle happened. Suddenly it was as if the group ahead of him had slowed down, and Brian managed to push himself a little further and join them. As he jogged round the corner, he was vaguely aware that someone was lying on the floor. Had somebody fallen over and caused the rest of the trainees to slow down?

"Keep running." John, who had slowed to match Brian's pace, whispered. "You can thank me later. If anyone asks, it wasn't me who tripped him."

He would have said something in response, but forming words when his chest burnt so much was difficult, so he resigned himself to a slight nod. 

Despite not knowing exactly what John had done, Brian was grateful, if a little worried that they would get in trouble for breaking rules. No matter what, the fact he didn't have to do extra laps was a good thing, even if John's method of helping him wasn't exactly Orthodox. 

\----------

Brian finished the run with no further incident. He was last out of his squad, but not last out of the whole group, which in his eyes was truly a miracle. 

It was evening by the time everyone had finished training and the four of them were able to talk again. Well, three of them. John disappeared almost instantly with no indication of where he was going. 

"Hey, Bri! Heard you getting a proper bollocking during that run!" Roger was leaning against one of the outer fences, chucking a pebble at something beyond the camp boundaries. 

"And I see you've calmed down. I didn't realise anger could propel a man so quickly."

Roger looked proud, smiling with a toothy grin. "Thanks."

"How are you feeling Brian? You looked positively worn out.” 

“I’m okay, thanks Fred.” Happy he hadn’t had to do those extra laps. He would not have been standing upright if it had been so. “Did you see where John went?”

“No fucking clue darling.” Freddie chucked a rock in the same way Roger had earlier, then nudged the man next to him and pointed. Brian started to get a little suspicious as to what they were doing, but had neither the physical or mental energy to deal with nonsense, so left it alone. 

"I don’t know why you’re even trying. I don’t think he likes us very much.” Roger added. “He’s always running off and that and he’s proper creepy when he talks about shooting people.”

"I'm sure he'll warm to us." Mumbled Brian, trying to be reasonable once again but even he wasn't too sure if there was any truth in what he was saying. He still needed to talk to John about whatever the fuck happened during the run. 

Roger smirked. "Fat fucking chance of that." He then reached down for another pebble and aimed perfectly to hit the top of Brian's head. "Beat that Freddie!" 

"Oh excellent my dear! I hadn't even thought of it like that."

Rubbing the top of his head to remove what was presumably now lost in his hair for the rest of his life, Brian scowled at the two of them. "What exactly is the purpose of this game? Haven't you two got toilets to be cleaning?" 

"Not till this evening. 'Till then you're stuck with us and after then you can and around with psychopath Deacon." 

"Oh please don't call him that Rog.” Stopping and considering whether there was any point in trying to stay out of the nonsense, he laughed. “I am slightly worried I'll roll into him in the night and you'll never see me again." 

He shrugged "Sounds like your problem. Hey Bri do you think I could get another pebble in your hair?" 

"Absolutely not." Brain groaned and stretched his arms out sleepily. "I'm going to get some sleep, wake me up when it's time for food." 

As Brian walked away he felt two more rocks tap against his back at slight intervals. He held a middle finger up behind him, and realised that he was stuck in a squadron with a duo of troublemakers and one of the most unsettling people he had ever met. 

He needed to go lie down so he could deal with the three of them for the rest of the day. 

\----------

Brian didn't see John again until the evening. It was after the other two had spent forty minutes dressing each other up to make the perfect cleaning team that John finally shuffled into the tent, said nothing, and lay down on his sleeping mat. 

"I didn't see you in the mess hall earlier." Brian noted, looking up from his dictionary which he was struggling to read in the low light. 

"I wasn't there."

"Oh. Right. Er- any reason why?" 

"Busy." He turned over onto his side to face away from Brian. "Training." 

"Wow." Not knowing how to reply to that, Brian changed the subject. "Freddie and Rog just left, it should be quiet for a bit." 

"I know. I saw them leave.” He sat up and stared across the tent. “Look, Brian if you've not got anything better to say would you mind not saying anything at all?" 

Shutting his mouth, he placed the book down. "Sorry. I just wanted to say about earlier- in the run- thanks for helping me catch up, but I'd really rather if-" 

John sat up, facing Brian. "If what? If I hadn't have pushed that guy over? Did you see him? He's never going to make it through training and honestly I'd rather he took a little tumble than you be kicked out of the camp." 

"Oh. Thanks? I think?" He really wasn't sure whether that was meant as a compliment. "Maybe next time don't hurt other people?" 

"Don't you know where we are? People get hurt Brian. Don't let it be you." With that he lay down and turned way again. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight John." Brian whispered a long time later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another chapter bois! fraid the updates on this one will be a tad sporadic bc my degree is very time consuming, but I will try my best. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments on the last chapter, y'all lovely. 
> 
> xx


	3. I won't call you names

To Brian's dismay, most of the training seemed to centre around the physical aspect of the job and not the mental which he excelled at. Although it was funny to watch Roger and Freddie struggle at basic survival skills (neither of them knew how to boil an egg, which was a comical affair), it was no consolation for the pain and embarrassment of coming last in every race, being able to carry the least or the slowest to assemble a gun. 

Guns didn't come naturally to him. Holding it in his hands felt wrong, the drills made him uncomfortable. 

Firing them wasn’t too bad. Firing them at the paper targets that was, Brian wasn’t sure if he could stomach holding a gun to a living creature. Along with Freddie, Roger and John, he headed to the gun range for the first time about three weeks into the course. 

He placed the ear defenders on, raised the pistol and turned off the safety as he’d been taught. Raising it up with arms out-stretched, he aimed towards the target and gently pressed on the trigger, firing three shots. He securely holstered his pistol, then waited for the other three so he could check his accuracy. 

“Not bad Bri!” Freddie called as he walked past and picked up his own target. 

Brian curiously looked at the bullet holes through the paper, all three had hit the image of the man, and two were next to the central rings of the head and chest. Sticking his finger through the hole to check round the back, he became aware that someone was watching. 

“I’m surprised.”

“What?” Brian turned around. “Why do you keep sneaking up on me?”

“You’re a better shot than Freddie and Roger and you weren’t even holding the gun properly.” John pointed out. 

“Oh. What was I doing wrong?”  
“I’ll show you.”

“Aren’t you meant to be practising as well?”

John shrugged and walked away, leaving Brian to walk over to the other man’s target. 

Three bullet holes, one in the centre of the head, one on the image of the weapon in the figures hand and one directly on the heart. 

“Holy shit.” He muttered to himself as he walked back for the next round of gunfire. 

Back behind the barrier, Brian reloaded his pistol and waited for the Freddie and Roger to return before aiming once again. 

"You need to relax." Called John who was leaning against the barrier behind him. "And don't lock your elbows out." 

Brian tried to replicate what he'd been told, loosening his arms slightly. All he got in response was a tutting sound.

"I didn't say turn into jelly. Here." He reached out and placed his hands around Brian's, lifting them into position. "Like this." 

Johns hands were warm around his own, his skin dry from exposure, but he was right- the position felt much more natural. 

"Okay." He said, letting go. "Now aim and fire." 

\----------

Brian had handed in a perfect score sheet to Officer Beach by the end of the hour. He got an impressed nod in response, as if such a feat was only satisfactory. John’s equally perfect sheet earned even less of response (though Brian was sure Beach wouldn’t be surprised by the sharpshooters ability). 

“May, Deacon, feel free to take the rest of the morning off.” He hummed looking down at the targets he’d been given. “Mercury and Taylor, I need a word. Again.”

As Brian and John left the others to what was presumably another scolding, Brian could not work out what they’d done this time. The only thing that could have been out of order was their scores.

“I thought we wouldn’t get penalised for low scores on the first round.” He mentioned as they headed back to the main base. 

“It’s not that.”

“Why has he kept them back then?”

John laughed. Brian had learnt by this point that it was usually not a good sign if John was laughing. “Freddie’s missing on purpose.”

“What? Why? And how the hell do you know that?”

“It’s fairly obvious, he knows how to use a gun and I think if it came to it, he'd be almost as good as I am. And trust me, it takes a lot of practice to get that good.” John sneered a little. “As for why, presumably he’s trying to make Roger feel a little less shit.”

“Why would he do that?” 

John turned to him and gave a knowing smile. “I don’t know? Why would he do that?”

Fucking John and his cryptic answers. Brian kicked one of the rocks at his feet across the sand, towards the line of tents. 

“What are you going to do with the rest of your morning?”

“I thought it best to check out the competition before this afternoon.”

Brian’s stomach sank to his feet. Having been in blissful ignorance before, the sudden memory of the afternoons trials hit him like a truck. As bad as he was at the running or climbing, he was bound to be worse at hand to hand combat. 

“Do you really think they’ll make us fight on the first one?” He asked wearily. 

John didn’t answer, returning his question instead with his eyebrows-raised look which seemed to be permanently etched onto his face. 

“Maybe I should come with you then? See what the other squads are like.” 

“Thank you, but no. I really prefer to work alone.” 

It was fair enough really. Brian knew he was pushing it with this conversation alone, and was quietly proud to have gotten more than a sentence out of John. Now it was just a waiting game for Freddie and Roger to return so he had someone to complain at about the combat trials.

\----------

“Hit him Blondie! Sock it to ‘im! Come on pretty boy!” 

If there was any way to make the scene of Roger beating the shit out of the biggest guy Brian had ever seen less violent, Freddie’s comedic chants of encouragement certainly did it. 

It was like nothing he had ever witnessed before. Of course, Brian had watched Roger fight on multiple occasions, but he had never seen him go so quickly, as if he was trying to prove something. He was the first to volunteer for the trial, and evidently his opponent had been looking for an easy fight because he’d stepped into the ring alongside the blond with a snigger upon his face. 

Brian wondered whether that man was regretting his choice now, as Roger landed his fifth consecutive punch to his temple. The rest of the trainees created a wall around the circle, either screaming encouragements like Freddie, or anxiously watching like Brian. And then, of course, there was John, who stood slightly off to the side with a look of mild interest.

Roger almost looked disappointed when the man tapped out so early, but nevertheless stood up and wandered out of the ring, rubbing the dust off of his hands. He headed straight to Brian and Freddie, the latter greeting him with open arms. 

“Absolutely stunning, my dear. Gorgeous.” He hugged him, patting his back gently. “Who’s going next? Deaky?” 

John turned and glared.

“Maybe not. Brian?”  
Brian scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“Well I guess that leaves me!” Spinning round gracefully, Freddie skipped forwards to volunteer himself for the next round, calling out as he did. “Wish me luck dearies!”

He did not need any luck. It took him a little longer to bring his opponent to the ground, and his fighting style was certainly not conventional, but the barrage of kicks and spins eventually did the trick. Freddie stood triumphantly in the middle of the circle, holding his arms up and bowing along with the unenthusiastic claps from the other groups. 

Neither Brian nor John volunteered for the next round. Freddie did try to convince Brian, but as he explained, the longer he could hold off, the more likely he wouldn’t have to do it at all (he chose to ignore Roger’s calls of bullshit in the background). But, as time went on and on, it became more apparent that he was going to have to fight somebody. And if they didn't do something soon, the final battle would be between John and himself. 

"Bri, you need to volunteer next round or it's gonna be you versus Deaky." Roger, who had evidently been having the same thought, whispered subtly. 

"Maybe it'll be okay. He won't hit me as hard as someone we don't know."

"There's nothing behind his eyes, Brian. He'll fucking murder you, no remorse." 

Brian turned to John, who had not moved for the past hour or so. He just stared into the centre of the circle, eyes unblinking. Maybe Roger had a point. 

He watched as the current fight came to a close, wincing as a scrawny-looking man was clocked around the face with a sickening crack. He tapped out almost immediately after, crying out with what looked like a dislocated jaw. 

Then came the call for the next set of volunteers. Brian felt Roger nudging him forward, but whilst he was deliberating his position, John pushed ahead and held up a hand, saying nothing. 

“John-” Brian tried to protest, but couldn’t think of a reason to stop him.

He glared in their general direction. “Maybe try whispering a little quieter next time.” 

There was a nervous laugh from his opponent as he stepped into the ring, back turned from the other three.

For the first time that afternoon, everybody was silent. 

The other man was on the floor before Brian even knew what happened. Nobody dared cheer as John walked out of the ring, face expressionless. It seemed everyone else in the camp was equally as fearful, if not more, than the three of them were. Whatever he must have been getting up to when he disappeared, it was certainly making an impact. 

Brian felt his heart hitting his ribs as he watched John disappear into silence once again. 

  
  


Then he heard the call of his own name, and suddenly all eyes were on him. 

The thudding in his chest spread out through his body, a constant loud noise in his ears. Vaguely feeling someone- probably Roger or Freddie- place a hand on his shoulder and direct him forwards, Brian kept his eyes on the floor, watching his feet drag through the sand.

"Look sharp, May, give the boys a show for the last fight of the day." 

The voice, harsh and much too close, drew his attention from the ground. Slowly moving upwards, watching his knees tremble then up past his shaking hands, further upwards still and he was almost face to face with his opponent, except his neck was still bent and his eyes barely hovered on their face. 

He was by no means a big buy, smaller than the men Roger and Freddie took on. But Brian wasn’t Roger or Freddie. Brian was tall and lanky, built for mathematics, not brawling in a pit. Maybe if he could dodge the first few strikes, his opponent would tire out and then it would hurt less when he eventually got hit? Or he could try and distract him, defeat him with brains not brawn. 

Brian was overthinking. Unfortunately, this was only brought to his attention when he felt a fist connect to his nose.

Eyes watering at the impact, he only had the time to yell out a quick expletive before there was a second pain, this time his stomach. Without thinking his hands moved to his front to shield himself, and his knees fell forward, unable to hold his weight anymore. Vaguely aware of liquid pooling over his top lip, Brian scrambled to stand up again, met only with a knee to the chin and a splitting pain through his jaw. 

It didn’t seem to stop. No matter how he tried to block or crawl away, it just seemed to be blinding pain after pain, the man now on top of him and not holding back with his attack. He gasped for breath, desperately looking for his friends in the crowd but unable to make them out through the water in his eyes. 

People were cheering. He could hear that much, even despite the ringing in his ears. Someone was shouting. He heard his name through the commotion and turned his head. A mistake, as that was only another opportunity to get another punch in. 

Whoever it was was still shouting his name. Louder than before, and they said something along with it. Brian couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t see. He could only feel. 

“Brian.” This was a different voice. Softer than the other, but he could make it out better. John. “Brian you need to tap out.” 

Oh right. Tap out. 

As soon as the thought hit him his hand flew to the side, and he slammed his palm against the ground twice. 

Nothing stopped. He felt himself scream as his head was pushed against the ground. The barrage didn’t stop. 

He hit the ground again. And again.

“He’s tapped out you fucking wanker!” Another voice, probably Roger because Brian could just about make out the pink of his shoes next to his head. “Hey!”

Despite that there was another punch, hitting Brian’s nose once again, this time with a sickening crack. 

Brian lifted his face and looked up at the sky through the tears. It was fuzzy, spinning a little. He’d stopped bracing himself a long time ago, but at this point he fully let himself sink into the ground, accepting of the pain yet to come. 

It didn’t. Someone pulled the weight off him, and then Freddie’s face was directly over his big brown eyes taking up most of his field of view and lips moving but no sound coming out. 

“What?” 

“I said we need to get you up dearie. Can you stand up yourself?”

Brian opened his mouth, confused. Where has everyone gone?

Freddie looked over his shoulder “Roger, can you not be so dramatic? He’s speaking to me, aren’t you Bri?”

“Yeah?” He responded, not so sure of the answer. Experimentally wiggling his fingers and toes, he concluded that he was at least somewhat intact, and lifted his arm to wipe the wetness on his face. His hand came off coated in red.

“Let me help you dear.” Freddie carefully took Brian's hand with one arm, and supported his back with the other, lifting him up to a sitting position. “I’m afraid no one else has stuck around for the rest of the show.” 

Brian looked around the area. He was still sitting in the sand circle, Freddie kneeling down opposite him. Just off to the side was Roger, holding what looked like all the tissue from the toilet block, hopping from leg to leg anxiously. The sun was much lower in the sky, and the mess hall had its lights on. How much had he missed? 

"I don't think I'm suited to fighting." Brian mumbled, the words not sounding like he wanted to. 

Freddie laughed. "Nonsense! You'll get there eventually." 

Sometimes Brian wished Freddie wasn't so positive, even in the face of something that was inevitable. 

"Come on, we need to get you cleaned up whilst the showers are free."

\----------

Brian stood under the water of the shower, letting it trickle out over the bruises of his body, the cold water strangely soothing. He couldn't bring himself to move, resigning the tangles in his hair to stay there until he had the energy to rip them out. 

He didn't bother to dry himself afterwards, pulling on a pair of trousers and stepping out to where he knew Roger and Freddie were waiting expectantly. 

They talked almost nonstop as they fussed over him, delicately wiping the cuts on his face. Roger kept worrying about brain injuries, whilst Freddie seemed more concerned about the broken nose. Brian barely replied to them, just sat on the floor and let them work. That was, of course, until he thought of something.

"Where did John go?"

"Fucked off after his fight, I think." Roger shrugged, tossing a piece of bloodied tissue into the corner. 

"No, I saw him when I was on the ground."

"Fred I told you he was brain damaged. You're so worried about the fucking broken nose-" 

"Well I was just worried about his future prospects, he has got a rather beautiful nose-" 

Brian sighed as the other two bickered as if he wasn't there. They continued to argue about their respective diagnoses as Brian sat still and let himself ache. 

"Can you two both shut up for once in your lives?" He murmured once the argument started to get a little too heated. "I'm not brain damaged, and I could not give a shit about my nose." 

They stopped arguing and looked down sheepishly towards Brian. 

"Thank you. Now if we're done, I'm going to get some sleep."

He stood up with a wobble, balancing himself with one arm on the concrete wall.

“Make sure you sleep on your side Bri!” Roger called, moving to help Brian out but being pushed away. “Maybe we should put him in the recovery position?”

“I don’t think I know the recovery position dear.”

“Me neither. Aren’t we meant to have a medic on the squad?”

Brian didn’t look back as they continued yet another stupid conversation, walking straight out the door towards their tent. Something was going on in one of the other tents. It sounded like a fight, but he couldn’t care less at that point. 

He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his mat and sleep for a thousand hours. And, barely acknowledging the fact that John was not hidden underneath his blanket in the far corner, that was exactly what he did. 

\----------

A thousand hours was probably a little too ambitious. Brian wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but it can’t have been long. There was no light seeping through the dark fabric of the tent, and Freddie and Roger were nowhere to be seen. John must have gotten back at some point because the tent was filled with the sound of heavy breathing.

None of that was Brian’s biggest focus, however, because he was currently preoccupied with the feeling of dripping from his nose. He briefly put dealing with the issue off, putting it down to moisture in the tent, but the increasing taste of iron in his mouth and the want to keep his clothes stain free eventually made him get up. 

He moved as carefully as he could with his bones aching as much as they did, pulling his shoes over his feet and not tying the laces. Feeling a drip fall from his nose onto his feet he carefully pinched the bridge of his nose, then ducked and crawled into the bitter air. 

The walk back to the shower block felt longer than it had done before, and it took a lot of effort not to trip and fall in the darkness of the cloudy night. Fortunately the block was well lit, and there wasn’t much mud in this climate, so he managed to make his way there (albeit with a slightly odd route, and he probably looked like a drunkard to any bystanders).

It was a quick wander through the door to the closest toilet stall. There wasn't much paper left, but he did his best with what there was to stem the steady flow from his nose. The skin around his face was bruised- he could tell that without even touching it- and his face was going to look terrible in the morning. Luckily he wasn’t being judged on his looks, although he was sure if they were, squad 39 would place very highly. It made him laugh to think of it, the idea of freddie forcing eyeliner on Deaky or forcing Roger out of those god-awful pink trainers. 

As funny as the thoughts were, it wasn’t enough to distract Brian from the sudden moan- muffled and quiet, but so out of place in the silence of the room. 

He stopped moving instantly, wanting nothing more than to get himself out of an awkward situation. 

There was no further sounds, but he didn’t want to risk leaving the cubicle, just incase he was caught by the person at the other side of the room.

Brian sat for a good thirty seconds before there was another sound, and he realised two things.

There was two people. And he recognised the voice of at least one of them.

Fuck. 

Pushing the door open as far as he dared, and slipping out of the cubicle into the corridor. 

“Do you think they’ve gone?” 

It was a whisper, but it wasn’t quiet. And Brian had definitely not gone. 

“Shall I check?”

At that point Brian realised who the other person was. Suddenly he realised what John had been talking about earlier that day. 

He had to leave the toilet block before they saw him. 

Which would be difficult, because if he moved he would definitely be heard. 

There was giggling from the far cubicle, and the sound of the door unlocking. Brian found himself like a deer in headlights, staring at the slowly opening door with his mouth agape. It was better that than be seen running away. 

At least, that had felt like the best idea at the time, but once he made eye contact with the half-dressed Freddie, barely poking his head out the door, he really wished he had made a run for it. 

Both of them stopped at a standstill, Freddie’s mouth slowly opening into the same ‘o’ shape Brian’s had fallen into. His dark hair was disheveled, eyes not moving off Brians’s face. 

He cleared his throat, not moving his gaze. 

“Roger, dearie. We may have a slight problem.”


	4. I breath the air

Roger and Freddie slept at different ends of the tent that night. Even John, who made it obvious he didn't want to be involved with whatever this was, was forced out of his corner into the middle with Brian.

It wasn't like Brian had said anything to them. He didn't care that they were fucking. Well, he didn't care that much, it certainly wasn't ideal considering they were meant to be heading off into the army in a few weeks, but who was he to stop them? 

Whatever was going on between them, being caught in the act had definitely put it on hold. 

They didn't talk at breakfast, they didn't pair up during the first aid training, and they didn't sleep next to each other once again. 

It didn't help that neither of them would talk to Brian either. Freddie would give some bullshit excuse, contrived out of madness, and Roger would shrug his shoulders, looking away awkwardly. John was about as conversational as ever, so Brian was feeling rather lonely. 

It wasn't as if Brian didn't have other shit to deal with either. He was still struggling with hand to hand combat, and although yet to have another event quite like the first (his nose had almost healed, thankfully), he still spent most of the sparring sessions sat on his arse in the sand. 

Even practising with Roger, his go to partner, who was really too distracted to put up a fight, was difficult. Brian found himself being knocked onto the floor again and again, even whilst Roger was looking over his shoulder towards Freddie every thirty seconds. 

Roger walked off after beating Brian for the eleventh time, and disappeared to his new life of solitude. Still sitting on the floor, dusting off his jacket as best as he could, Brian realised that he really needed to do something.

He needed to learn to fight, otherwise he would fail the final exam, be kicked out of the army and then he'd never get to see the city. Never achieve his dreams. 

And he wasn't going to learn anything from Roger like this. 

  
  


"Get up." 

Brian turned his head, just before there was a light kick to his sacrum, to see John, arms folded and a sour look upon his face. 

“You’re not going to learn a thing if you just sit there on your backside. Get up.”

“But Roger-” Brian tried to argue, but was interrupted. 

“He’s fucked off. Freddie’s gone too. Do you want me to teach you or not?”

John was looking down at Brian with an impatient impression, arms still crossed. He didn’t offer Brian any help to stand, but that was to be expected at this point. Brian stood up by himself and faced John. 

“Good. Now hit me.”

Brian laughed. “I’m sorry? What?”

“Hit me.” John shrugged, looking disinterested. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Gently folding his hand into a fist, he lent backwards and reluctantly hit John's chest. 

John didn't even flinch. 

They waited for a few seconds before either said a word. 

“I think we’ve got a lot of work to do.” John reached forward and grabbed his right hand. He held it surprisingly gently, and carefully folded his fingers. “Keep your thumb on the outside or you’ll break it.”

“Got it.”

“Block your face with your other arm.” 

Brian awkwardly hovered his hand across his face, figuring that he’d done something wrong once he saw John's face. 

“Bloody hell.” He grabbed Brian’s wrist and pulled it round. “Like this. You don’t want to get hit in the head. Now-” Brian looked into John’ eyes as he scanned over his face, “Chin down and don’t tense up so much.”

It was difficult for Brian to relax. He could feel John’s breath, hot and heavy, as he leaned in even closer and looked him up and down. 

“It’s a start.” He waited with his face millimetres away from Brian’s neck for just a moment, then withdrew, stepping backwards. “Try again. Try stepping into the punch this time.”

Taking a deep breath in, Brian leant back then stepped forward, swinging his shoulder round and forcing his fist to the area just below John’s collar bone. John took a slight step backwards as he was hit, then without any warning looped an arm around Brian’s back and swung him round, sending him tumbling to the floor once again.

“What the fuck was that for?” Brian muttered once he’d regained his breath. “I thought I’d done alright.” 

“You let your guard down. I’m not here to baby you.” Despite the harsh nature of what he said, this time he held out a hand for Brian to grab. 

Brian took the hand and pulled himself up. “So are you going to teach me how to do that thing? Where you drop people to the floor?”

“One step at a time. I’m going to teach you how to block a punch first.” He paused, taking a step away from Brian. “Show me how you’d block this.” 

Brian furrowed his brow in confusion “How I’d block wha- Oh shit-” 

\----------

Training with John was hard work. But, through some sort of miracle, Brain did seem to be improving. He could throw a fairly decent punch, and was even able to escape a choke hold, impressive, as apparently that was John's favourite move. 

If he could keep it up, he was sure to make it through the trials. That was if he could face up to an opponent other than John, but that was a problem for another time. For now it was get his technique correct, and sort out the Mercury-Taylor situation, as it was evident that it was not going to resolve itself.

It was when it got to three weeks before the examination that Brian finally managed to do something about it. 

Freddie could sulk for a week, probably even longer, but Brian could tell that Roger was struggling with the lack of conversation between the three of them. And, as their days of not speaking went on, and Brian began to try less and less to get words out of them, he was sure that both of them would have been struggling from lack of attention. 

Roger came and sat next to Brian whilst he was eating his midday rations (alone, as he had done since he’d first caught the two of them together). He sat silently for a while, tapping against the table, before clearing his throat. “Brimi,” he whined, “can we talk?”

Brian laughed. “You’re telling me that after ignoring me for a week, you're now going to act like it's my fault that we’re not talking?”

“If you don’t want to, fine,” he huffed, standing up abruptly, “there’s no need to be a dick about it.” 

Pulling Roger back onto the bench, Brian laughed again. “Sit down Rog. Of course we can talk. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Freddie?”

He shrugged, looking away from Brian. 

“Or is it something I’ve done?” 

Roger shrugged again. “I just don’t want you to be angry about it.”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “About what? You two fucking? It came as a bit of a surprise, but as long as it doesn’t tear this team apart-” 

“I really like him.” Brian was met with a pair of tear brimmed blue eyes. “I really like Freddie and I’ve never liked anyone like this before.” 

“Why the fuck are you not speaking to him then?" 

"I thought you'd hate it." He whined, looking painfully worried. 

Brian had to stop himself from laughing again. "Why would I hate it, Rog?" He smiled gently and turned so he was directly facing his friend. "You're the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, and I know you only signed up because I wanted to. If you can find happiness here then I'm happy." 

"I don't want you to be left out."

"You won't be leaving me forever." Brian laughed, it was just like Roger to be over dramatic. "Besides, I can work in my research when you two are busy. Or speak to John, we get along alright." 

The last bit was a lie. He and John didn't speak outside of training, and all their conversations resolved around fighting technique. It was better than when they'd first met at least. 

Roger looked sceptical at the statement as well. "Yeah. Deaky will always be around I guess." He looked up at Brian, finally looking happy for the first time that week. "So you really don't mind?" 

"Of course not. Now, are you going to sit there being soppy, or are you going to go talk to Freddie?" 

Roger jumped up, wrapping his arms around Brian's back in a rough hug. "Thank you Bri." 

Brian ate another spoonful of potato, and placed his spoon down, watching Roger sprint out the door. He was happy the situation was resolved, but couldn't help but feel just a little lonely, a slight emptiness in the pit of his stomach that wasn't caused by hunger. 

He put the thought to the back of his mind and continued eating. He had to finish eating soon if he were to meet John on time, giving them enough time for a bit of practice before the afternoon drills.

\---------

Freddie and Roger didn’t take long to rekindle their relationship. Brian wasn’t sure the exact conclusion of their conversation, but that night they resumed their position in the centre of the tent, roll mats pushed as close together as they could get. 

The nights felt a little warmer once again. Roger returned to chatting, Freddie to sassing the superiors and the two of them to creating trouble. Brian didn’t visit the bathrooms at night time again, not wanting a repeat of last time, instead resigning himself to rereading his books in the low light whilst John meditated at the other side of the tent. 

The free time they had decreased significantly the closer they got to the trials. Brian and John still found time to train with each other, even if it wasn’t as in depth as it could be. Despite this, he seemed to improve. Blocking became an instinct, and he could swear he nearly saw John wince after a particularly hard punch. 

Part of him wished there was something he could help John with, but he seemed so good at everything already. Even at tasks that he had never heard of, he would excel instantly. He could light a fire in seconds, destroy a punching bag and managed to diffuse a fake bomb in the time it took for sergeant Beach to scold Freddie and Roger (who had been caught making out at the back of the crowd). It was infuriating to Brian. Hating feeling useless, the only area he felt he could improve John's life was getting him to open up a little.

Evidently, John wasn’t very good at talking about himself. Or talking about anything, for that matter. He spent less time alone than at the start at the training, but wouldn’t speak more than single words when they ate as a group. 

The last morning of training, John ran alongside Brian as they took off around the track again. Not speaking, but it made Brian smile to know that he had finally become comfortable enough to show a little emotion. 

Brian was equally as excited as he was anxious for the next day. Having no idea what the test would entail, it was difficult to prepare other than make sure he knew how to fight and could prove he was fit enough to be a soldier. After that, he could barely contain his excitement of what was yet to come. He couldn’t imagine them sending new recruits anywhere too dangerous, and whatever happened he knew it was just the next step of his life. 

  
  


Going to sleep seemed like an impossible task. He washed his face with cold water and brushed his hair, then slowly made his way across to their tent, giving his mid time to cool down.

He wasn’t expecting to see John sitting outside of the tent, about five feet away from the door.

“I wouldn’t go in there just yet.” He mumbled, eyes shut and face serene. “I’ve seen some things I didn’t want to.” 

“Oh.” Brian stopped in his tracks. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

John shrugged. “Why would I care?” 

“Okay.” Finding as clean a spot of ground as he could, he sat cross legged next to John. His companion’s eyes were still shut, and he didn’t continue any conversation. 

Not caring about the dust on his clothes, Brian lay back so he was staring up at the sky. It was another clear night, as it seemed to be almost everyday. The stars seemed brighter than usual, illuminating the sky. 

He watched and wondered. Hopefully soon he would know more about the stars and their beauty. They glistened so gently, like nothing he could compare them to. 

“You like looking at the stars too?” Brian hadn’t noticed John laying down next to him, staring up at the stars. “I used to do this a lot when I was young. They’re clearer these days.” 

“My dad and I used to stargaze every night. I wouldn’t sleep unless I’d said goodnight to the stars.” 

John chuckled quietly.

“You know what he used to tell me?” 

There wasn’t an answer, so Brian continued anyway. 

“He used to say that as much as the world changes around you, the stars will always be there.” His mouth curled into a smile at the thought of it. 

Silence followed for a few moments after, with John eventually speaking up. “Do you miss him? Your dad?”

Brian thought for a moment. “A bit. But I know I can’t stay at home my whole life, and this is how I do what I’ve always wanted to do.” 

“I wish I was like you.”

It hit Brian like a bullet in the chest. John, who was so perfect at everything he did, wanted to be like him? “Wha- why?”

Turning his head to the side to look into Brian’s eye, John gave an uncomfortable looking shrug. “I guess you just know what you want, what you’re here for. I joined the army because I knew I’d be good at it.”

“Well,” he paused, staring at John, whose face was showing more emotion than it ever had done before, “I suppose you don’t have to know already. I mean Roger didn’t know what he wanted to do, but I’m sure he’s enjoying himself now.” 

“I’m not like Roger. I’m not charismatic. I’m not going to change the world like Freddie. I’m going to fight, and I’m probably going to die in the process, and my life will be meaningless like most other people in this country.” 

“John, you’ll never be meaningless. And none of us are going to die, there’s no battles at the moment, they won’t send us anywhere dangerous.” 

He hummed in response, sounding unconvinced.

“You’ll work it all out. And if not you can stick around with our mad bunch until you do.” Holding out a hand didn’t feel like something that would comfort John, but Brian tried anyway. 

To Brian’s surprise, he took it gently. 

“Thanks Bri.”

It was the first time John ever used that nickname.

“If you ever want to talk, you know, away from the idiots, I’m always here.”

John sat up. “Yeah. Thanks. You’re going to do well Brian. Tomorrow and everyday after that.”

Feet shuffled out of view and Brian turned back to stare at the sky, his heart warming in his chest. The stars only got brighter than they had been before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing okay and staying at home if you can. 
> 
> Stay safe bitches :)


	5. There's no way back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter sorry ;)

Sweltering heat was the last thing Brian needed on the day of the test. The sun was barely in the sky but the temperature had risen multiple degrees and the air was dry and harsh. The anxiety didn’t help either, palms sweaty from the thought of the trials alone.

Things started off well. Even though he had to be dragged out of bed in the morning, Roger passed the firearms test with ease. The improvement was like nothing Brian had ever seen before. Afterwards, when they were waiting for the other groups to finish at the shooting range, Brian pulled him to the side and asked him how he’d managed it.

Roger squirmed awkwardly. “I might have had some help with the training.”

“Help? Was it John?”

A nod of the head confirmed it. It made sense that John wouldn’t just be helping Brian, but it wasn’t something that had occurred to him. The man was even harder to work out than before. 

However, there wasn’t any time to contemplate it further. As the final squad finished shooting they were ordered to march to the fighting pit. Everything Brian had learnt was about to come into play. If he was ever to be sent home without his dreams, this was the point it would happen.

Legs shaking as he walked, his mind flashed from outcome to outcome. Repeating everything John had told him in his mind, over and over again. Walking alone, he watched his feet in the dirt, keeping himself grounded. 

A hand on his shoulder made his head turn, stopping him from walking any further. Realising he was at his destination, he span around to see John's eyes meeting his. 

"Remember what I told you. You'll be fine." Brian's shoulder ached as it was squeezed tightly. "Besides, you don't need to win. Just show you're capable. Which you are."

Nodding dumbly, Brian heeded his advice. 

John tapped his shoulder twice. "They're going alphabetically. Don't start your fight till you've spoken to me." 

With that he walked off, disappearing into the group of people. Wondering how the hell he was meant to find John, who hadn't grown out of his habit of disappearing, Brian began to prepare like he'd been taught. 

Stretching his shoulders, slowing his breathing. Presumably his tutor was following the same routine hidden from everyone else. 

  
  


Fortunately for Brian, 'M' was a fair way through the alphabet, so he had time before his duel. However, what was to be a time to calm down was quickly replaced with more worry when an anxious looking blond ran into him. 

"Bri you are fucked!" 

Brian pushed him away. "What are you on about?" 

"Look who they're gonna make you fight." He paused, and when met with a blank expression sighed. "You're meant to be the clever one. M for May. M for Mercury. Get it?"

His mouth dropped open. "But I can't fight Freddie." 

"Of course you can't. He's bloody strong -I should know." Roger smirked, then his face went back to being serious. "He's not gonna hit you Bri. He won't do it."

It hadn't occurred to Brian that that would be a problem. But although neither Roger or John would have any qualms over punching him, Freddie didn't seem the kind of person that would attack his friends. Brian didn't particularly want to punch Freddie either (although he would be lying if the thought had never crossed his mind). 

But Freddie had to fight him. Because otherwise they would fail. 

"Where is he?" Pushing Roger out of the way, he looked around for the man. "I'll speak to him about it." 

Freddie was easy to find. Moping around at the edge of the crowd watching the first fight, he looked a little shocked at Brian's sudden presence. 

"Brian dear-"

Brian stopped him from speaking. "I don't give a shit Fred. Hit me. Beat the living daylights out of me. I've got this."

Looking up with the saddest pair of Brown eyes Brian had ever seen, Freddie opened his mouth. "I can't hurt you, Bri."

"You bloody well can. And you will, because I'm not losing this just because you don't want to hurt my feelings."

"Just think about this reasonably." It almost made Brian laugh to think of Freddie trying to be the voice of reason. "We could act out a fight, they would be none the wiser, and we won't ruin your beautiful nose anymore."

Brian wasn't ready to give up the argument that easily. "No. Fight me properly. I'm so much better now than the last time you saw me."

The corners of Freddie's mouth curled into a smirk. "Brian darling you look like a stick insect with a wig on, you’re not going to be able to put up a fight."

If Brian had hesitations about hitting Freddie before, they were no longer present. "You really want to bet?"

"Going in with this much confidence will kill you." He tutted. "I won't hold back if you really don't want me to, but I do not want a bollocking from everyone else when I knock you out."

Smiling secretly, Brian was turning round when he was jumped on by Roger yet again.

  
  


"Holy shit John just decked this guy!" 

Brian looked round to the circle anxiously. "He was meant to, I hope?" 

"Yeah! He's a fucking bad ass, it's terrifying." He spun his head round, looking between his two friends. "What are you two gonna do?" 

"Whatever we have to." 

"Good fucking luck." He snorted, then turned to Freddie. "Don't hit him too hard."

"He's not going to-" shaking his head, Brian decided not to argue back. "We'll be fine. Concentrate on yourself Rog." 

"Okay." He gave Freddie a peck on the lips. "Do our squad proud." 

"I always do dear." Freddie smiled. "Now go give Brian his kiss."

  
  


"I'd rather you didn't, thanks." 

\----------

John stood stoically like a Watchman over the crowd. He wasn't difficult for Brian to find, in fact he was fairly sure he had moved closer to listen into their conversation. Face unmoving as ever, he waited for Brian to approach before he spoke. 

“You’ve worked out who you’re fighting then?”

Nodding in agreement, Brian turned so Freddie and Roger wouldn’t see him. 

John turned as well and began to walk away. “You stand no chance against Freddie.”

Coughing in amazement, he began to run after him. “I’m sorry? Is that it? You help me for this long and then drop me now?”

It took a lot to keep up with John, who walked at a fast pace to the other side of the circle, seemingly not listening to anything that was being said. He stopped eventually, leaned down to tie his shoelace up, then looked up at Brian.

“If I had given up on you I’d have shot you like a lame dog already. No, you don’t stand a chance against Freddie in strength alone, and that’s why you’ll have to fight tactically.” He stood up, staring right into Brian’s eyes. “Think about Freddie, how does he fight?”

Brian shrugged. “I don't know? Like a lunatic?”

“You can do better than that.” 

“It’s almost like he dances- it doesn’t look like everyone else. It’s not a fight, it’s a performance?” 

Humming in agreement, John nodded. “Use it to help you. He may seem unpredictable but you can throw him off rhythm. Do what he doesn’t suspect of you.”

Do what he doesn't suspect of you. Brian repeated it over in his head, wondering what the hell it meant. He would have asked, had John not disappeared yet again. What would Freddie not suspect? Freddie didn’t know about his improvement, but that was hardly going to win him the fight. 

Wandering forward slowly he continued to think it over, looking up into the red sky with confusion. It was only when his name was called, along with Freddie’s, that his stomach began to pain with anxiety. Vaguely he heard someone whisper his name, along with laughter about the outcome of his last fight. He turned to see who it was but there was no distinguishing between the expectant glares of every trainee there.

He lurched as he was pushed forward by somebody, ignoring Roger’s screams of good luck to them both, and looked down at Freddie. “Fred. Remember what we said.”

“Darling, I won’t hold back.”

The cheers began to increase in volume. Brian looked around to try and see John or Roger but the wall of people was too high. Somewhere someone told them to go, but neither moved. 

Freddie took a step to the side slightly, and Brian mirrored, circling round. The sound of feet scuffling in the sand could be heard as everyone quietened down in anticipation for what was about to happen. They were waiting for Freddie to beat the shit out of him, Brian realised. But he wasn't going to let that happen. 

Do what he doesn't suspect of you. It wasn't about Freddie, it was about him. He had to do something he would never do. 

So Brian did the least Brian thing he could do. He gathered all his strength, and with full force, ran at Freddie. 

\---------

“That was fucking mental Bri! I’ve never seen you do something that well!” 

Roger was practically vibrating with excitement. Freddie learnt on his left side, less excited but with an almost proud expression. A bruise was slowly forming on his cheek, a deep blue showing through his olive skin, and if Brian knew Freddie he would be more concerned about that than being beaten in the fight.

“Cheers Rog, though it was nothing but a performance with an excellent sparring partner.”

Smiling, Freddie looked at him. “Thank you, dearie, I have to say I was not expecting- well any of that, to be honest.” He gazed round to the side. “I assume that you and John have been practising?”

“Yeah, a little.” Brian shrugged, unwilling to disclaim how long he had actually spent training. The other two were far too involved in each other to notice anyway. “I believe we’re well on track to passing now.”

“Of course. If Roggie here doesn’t show us up.”

Roger scoffed. “When have I ever lost a fight?

“When have I ever lost a fight?” Freddie argued back.

“You just did!”

“Okay, when have I ever lost against anyone but Brian?”

Stepping in between them, Brian coughed loudly. “If you two don’t stop arguing you’ll both lose another fight. It doesn’t matter-” he stopped mid-sentence as he spotted John out the corner of his vision, chuckling away to himself. 

“What doesn’t matter?” Roger asked curiously as the silence continued. 

“What I was about to say. Don’t you have some poor trainee to go beat up?”

He nodded, albeit with his eyebrows raised and mouth open as if he were asking another question. 

“I’m going to go speak with John. Good luck Rog, if I dont see you before.”

“I don’t need it, but thanks!”

Walking away, he forced himself to ignore the giggles behind him, and made a beeline towards John, who was still laughing quietly.

“Deaky. Thank you.”

John stopped laughing. “You did pretty well. But there’s a lot more I should have taught you.”

“It seems like you taught me enough.” 

Eyes dark and unfeeling as ever, John glared towards the fight pit. “I taught you enough for this. We’ll keep training to prepare you for fights in the real world.”

“You really think we’ll have to fight people?” As far as Brian could see the army had little battles to fight, they only ever seemed to be investigating cities (and it was common knowledge that they were abandoned) or protecting the peaceful civilisations from the more militant. Hand to hand combat didn’t seem like something that would come up often. 

“We need to be prepared for anything.”

Holding out a hand, Brian spoke “I’d be happy for you to teach me anything, then.” 

John took the hand, and Brian pulled him in closer for one of the most awkward hugs he had ever participated in. 

“What are you doing?”

Trying to pull back, Brian apologised. “Sorry- do you not like hugs?”

Appearing to think for a moment, John paused. “No. This is fine.” 

“Good. Now come on, I don’t want to miss Roger’s fight.”

\----------

Unsurprisingly, Roger had little issue proving his competency in hand to hand combat. The next obstacle in their progression was the run, which although put fear in Brian’s heart, was entirely beatable. 

There was one criteria to pass: don't lag behind. If he could keep up, which he knew now he could, there would be no issue. 

Unfortunately, it was naive of Brian to assume nothing would go wrong. 

He should have noticed it when they lined up at the start. One of the other squads was staring in their direction, talking over something secretly, but he had dismissed it as his own paranoia. 

As they ran the second lap, squad 39 began to split up. Roger and Freddie took up their positions at the front of the pack, whereas Brian and John ran together near the middle. The exhaustion was starting up, but Brian had little fear of being able to complete it. 

  
  


His confidence, however, was shattered, when he realised John was no longer running beside him but instead rolling over on the floor.

“What the fuck?” John's teeth were gritted, sounding angrier than Brian had ever heard him. “You pushed me.” 

For a second Brian thought the anger was directed at him, until he realised that stood next to him was the same man that he fought in his first fight. The same guy who had beaten him into the dirt and not stopped even after he had tapped out. Brian didn't understand why he had tripped John, of all people. It wasn’t as if he had done anything to upset him- at least not to Brian’s knowledge.

“Yeah. And that’s what you get. Prick.” The man mumbled, then ran off. Evidently John had done something to piss him off. 

Brian held out a hand to his fallen friend, who pushed him away. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He spat.

“I was helping you up?” Shuffling his feet awkwardly, Brian waited to be told what he was doing wrong this time. 

John stared at him momentarily. “Keep running!” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” 

His heart ached to leave John, who was slowly picking himself off, but he knew if he got too far behind the group he would never catch up. John was one of the best runners he knew, he wouldn’t struggle to get back in the race. 

Yet, as Brian weaved his way through to the middle of the group, time went on and on and John wasn’t running beside him. 

It was difficult to run whilst looking behind himself, but evidently John was finding it much more difficult to keep up than he was. Although he let very little emotion leak through his face, it was hard to miss the wince every time he landed harshly on his left foot. 

Although he would never admit it himself, John wasn't going to catch up.

Not unless Brian did something to help him. 

It was a split second decision really, and he was sure to regret it after, but at the time sticking out his foot wasn't that big a deal. Nor was it a big deal for him to keep running once the domino effect of people tripping began. 

Hiding his smiles of amusement was difficult as he raced ahead, not looking behind at the fallout but instead at John. John didn't smile, but gave a look to Brian before jogging past the few people who had fallen out of the race.

As Brian slowed his pace to let his team mate catch up, he didn't receive a thank you, instead an almost creepy laugh. 

"I thought you didn't like my methods of keeping up."

Brian shrugged. "I figured cheating's alright if cheating is what got you into the situation in the first place." He looked behind again, there was no way they would be caught up with anytime soon. In fact, they were close to being lapped by the front-runners. "How is your foot?"

"Sore." He smiled at Brian's concerned look. "Don't worry. I'll live."

"But you can finish the trials right?"

John scoffed. "I could do it with a broken leg if I needed to."

Not so sure in the truthfulness of that statement, Brian nevertheless went along with it, chuckling to himself. "Of course you could. We need to keep going though, I'll never keep this pace if we're talking."

"Speak for yourself." Once again, John gave his slightly creepy laugh, and somehow managed to run ahead of Brian, still with a slight wobble to his gait. 

\-----------

"Come on, let me have a look at it." 

Brian sat in the sand, three feet away from John who was trying to yank his boot of his foot. Having gotten his breath back from the running, Brian was more than willing to help him with the first aid, yet as per usual, his teammate was unwilling to accept any aid. 

"It'll be fine." With a wince, he pulled the shoe off, and chucked it as far as he could. "See. Just bruised."

Shuffling a little closer, Brian stared at his foot. It was slowly turning a deep shade of purple around his ankle. "You might have sprained it. It probably needs strapping up." 

"Sure. I'll do that."

"Do you want help? You know you can ask for help?" 

He hummed nonchalantly. "I can do it."

"Alright. I'll get you some bandages." Standing up, Brian swiped his hands clean from dust on his trousers, and began to head off to the main building when he heard a soft voice.

"Erm. Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you get my boot for me?"

Laughing quietly, he leaned down to pick up the forgotten shoe, and threw it so it landed just in-front of John.

\----------

If there was one task Brian had no worries about, it was the final one. It felt a little strange to say it, but their little squad already felt like his family, and if there was one thing they'd excel at, it would be the teamwork task. 

Even with John’s injury, the four of them were quietly confident as they stood and waited for their prompt. Roger and Freddie passed the time by climbing on top of each other in another one of their games that Brian didn’t get, but watched fondly nevertheless. It seemed to be a much longer wait than any of the other tasks- partly because each squad had to go separately, and party because whatever it was they had to do was taking a long time. 

Either way, the sun was begining to set by the time they were each handed an individual envelope. 

The paper was rough against his fingertips as he lifted the flap and pulled the note out. Upon it, written neatly in pencil, was a set of intructions. 

_Go to the mess hall for your first clue. Your time starts now._

Sliding the paper back into its envelope, he looked to the others. 

“Are they- are they all the same?”

Freddie shrugged. “I don’t know. What does yours say?”  
Brian recited what was on his note. 

“Mine’s the same, but it says to go to the firing range.” Roger lifted his note above his face to prove what it said.

Nodding, Freddie raised his piece of paper also. Instead of the mess hall or firing range, his told him to head to the camp. 

“Regardless of what it says,” John huffed, “we need to get going. We are being timed, after all.”

“Good point.” clicking his fingers, Freddie got up to move. “Best of luck darlings, I assume we’ll see each other soon.”

\----------

It felt a little odd to Brian that the teamwork task began with separating, but there must have been logic behind it, otherwise why would they have been told to do it?

The door swung open to reveal a completely empty mess hall, plastic tables completely abandoned, save for a set of objects on the table. As he walked closer to them, they were easily recognisable. A piece of paper, a blindfold, and a rope. 

Picking them up wearily, he held them under his arm and searched for further instructions. They had to have some sort of a purpose, but without direction they were nonsensical. He scanned the room for something, anything that was out of place. 

He saw it quicker than he thought he could. Another note, pinned to the back of the door. It fell into his hand with a slight rip, and he scanned over the text quickly.

_Return to your remaining team mates with your equipment. Further instructions will be given._

“Remaining teammates?” He mumbled to himself, reading it again to make sure it was correct, then stuffing the note into his waistband. 

\----------

Running felt easy to Brian now, especially when his mind was filled with confusion. His arms were full of the seemingly non-nonsensical equipment as his brain struggled to piece together the pieces of information. 

He almost knocked Freddie to the ground for the second time that day when he got back to the centre. 

“Watch out dear, I think we’ve had enough injuries already.” Laughing, he helped Brian hold the objects he had nearly dropped. “Quite the selection we’ve got here.”

“John’s not back.” Roger, who had been standing slightly off to the side, spoke up. “It said _remaining team mates_ and John’s not back.” 

“What do they want us to do? Go and find him?”

A laugh caused the three of them to turn suddenly. “Correct, May. It’s meant to be a simulation of field work- not my idea, I have to say, but you are being timed.” 

“Fuck off, Beach. How are we meant to find him?” 

“You’ve got everything you need.” Saying this, he looked down at his watch. “You should probably get going. Oh- and I almost forgot. Throw me the blindfold and cable ties.” 

Brian did as he was told, tossing over the blindfold, as Roger did the same with the cable ties. Catching them with ease, Beach appeared to think for a second, looking the three of them over. 

“This is meant to simulate things that might hold you back in the field. Don’t ask me, it wasn’t my idea.” He sighed, and looked to Freddie. “Mercury, come here.” 

Curiously looking between his two companions, Freddie stepped forward. 

“Hands please.” 

“Why?”

“Just do as you’re told for once in your life, please Freddie.” Beach grabbed his hands and pulled them forwards. He wrapped the plastic around his hands and pulled it tight. “Stand still.” 

“Kinky.” Freddie muttered as Beach knelt on the floor beside him and tied his ankles together. Sighing, Beach ignored him, standing up and dusting his trousers off.

“Taylor, you can have this.” He looked at the blindfold before throwing it back. “Put it on, please. And don’t take” 

Holding up a hand cautiously, Brian cleared his throat. “Do I get something?”

“Why? Do you want something?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good.” Beach looked down at his watch again. “Well off you go then.” He smiled, then promptly walked away.

\----------

“Honestly, dear, this is humiliating. How come Brian doesn’t have to look like an idiot?” Freddie hung precariously over Roger’s shoulders, hair swaying with every step he took. “Do you think the command hates us more?”

“No Freddie. Why on God’s green earth would the commanders ever hate you and Roger more when you’re both so good at following orders?” Sighing, Brian carried on leading Roger along to try and find more clues. 

Roger laughed. “I don’t think this is too bad.”

“That’s because you can’t see anything anyway! How am I meant to do anything if I can’t move?”

“I can’t help but feel you’re missing the point, Fred. How do we find John?” He looked around as best as he could, but there were no signs of anything pointing to John.

“I dunno. Did anyone get a map or something?” 

“I think someone would have said if they’d got a map, Rog.” Brian sighed, looking down at the rope tied around his waist and the paper, folded and stuffed in his pocket. 

Roger shrugged, causing Freddie to yelp. “I don’t know, do I? All I got was those ties and a lemon. And it’s made of plastic. What’s a lemon got to do with anything?” 

“I got a lighter.” Freddie leaned round Roger’s shoulders to look at Brian. “What happens if you set a plastic lemon on fire?”

“We’re not setting a-” He stopped in his tracks suddenly. 

“Uh- Bri, why have we stopped?”

“Shut up for a second. Where’s the lighter?”

Freddie wiggled his legs, dolphin-like in execution. “Back pocket.” Brian reached round and grabbed it out, ignoring the giggles from his friend. 

Pulling the piece of paper out and laying it flat, he flicked the flame on and slowly ran the paper through the heat. As he’d expected, a map of the compound appeared in brown lines. “Brilliant.” He smiled and held it up so Freddie could see. 

“You’re ever so clever, darling. Now how do we find our John?” 

“I think-” He contemplated for a second, fingers hovering over the map. “I think he’s here.” He pointed to the far edge of the map. A drawing of trees, marked with a tiny x, was the only thing that caught his eye. 

“Where’s that? And what’s it got to do with my lemon?” Roger asked, jumping slightly to push Freddie further up onto his shoulders. 

“The lemon’s a clue. You can make invisible ink with lemons. And we are heading to the outskirts of the camp. I think.”

Roger hummed. “Better than anything I’ve got.” He shrugged again, and began walking off in the opposite direction. 

“Erm. Rog?” Brian called, grabbing his arm once again. “This way.”

\----------

Although Brian was sure they were making good pace, walking seemed to take forever with Freddie, who wouldn’t shut up. Fortunately though, Roger didn’t seem to grow tired of carrying him, and there were no real obstacles until they came to the river.

It wasn’t a large river by any stretch, but it looked deep and fast. It was usually forbidden for anyone to go this far out of the compound (although Brian was almost certain Freddie and Roger had been there already), but nobody was stopping them. And, as if to confirm that they were heading the right way, there was a rope bridge set up across the widest section. 

A rope bridge that stood no chance of holding the three of them at once. 

“Brian dear? What are we going to do about that?” Freddie asked, looking out over the river. “I could try and hop it, but I don’t know how successful I'll be?”

“You’re not going to hop it. I suppose I could carry you?”

Roger giggled.

“What? I could carry him?” he argued back, although it didn’t seem to convince Roger.

“Why can’t I carry him?”

“As much as I respect your athletic ability Rog, I feel you may struggle to get across a rope bridge whilst both blindfolded and carrying this idiot.”

“I could do it.” Roger muttered so quietly that Brian barely heard it. He decided not to acknowledge it.

“I think I have an idea?” Freddie suggested. “Could you help me to the floor please Brian?”

Doing as he was told, Brian helped lower him off Roger’s shoulders so that he was standing awkwardly in the dust once again. 

“Do you see that board over there?” He gestured with his head. “It looks like a broken door or something?”

“I see it.” Brian raised his eyebrow suspiciously. “What’s your plan?”

“It doesn’t look like the bottom rope would support all three of us. But the two higher ropes- the handles- they would support me right? What if you and Rog dragged me across on that door?”

Thinking for a second, Brian tried to come up with a counterpoint, but couldn't think of anything else. “Okay. But if any of us fall in the water I want you to know that it is entirely your fault.”

“Don’t worry darling, I would never suggest something that could ruin my eyeliner that easily.”

Dragging the door was surprisingly easy, Brian pulled it onto the bank of the river then hefted it onto the top ropes. An entirely disorientated Roger was some help in lifting Freddie onto their makeshift stretcher, at least providing the strength and the stability when Brian crawled underneath to pull from the other side.

Freddie made up for the lack of noise from the other two, who were heavily concentrating, by screaming in a cacophony of sound. Glad that they weren’t being marked on stealth, Brian continued to keep the door stable whilst Roger provided the pushing force, wobbling on unsure feet. 

The ropes sank as they got to the middle of the river, dangerously close to the water. Brian tried not to look at the wooden supports holding the ropes up, not wanting to know if they were breaking, but conscious to keep going nonetheless. 

Stepping onto dry land once again felt like a blessing. He only hoped they were going the right way so they didn’t have to cross it again, it didn’t look like the ropes would take another trip. 

They returned to their former formation as they finished the last distance towards the trees- large pines that were now in full view. Freddie seemed to quieten down, eyes squinting as he looked towards their destination.

“There, look. There’s a platform with people on it.” 

“Can you see John?” Roger asked innocently.

Freddie laughed. “How close do you think we are?”

This earned a faux trip from Roger, causing Freddie to yelp and cling around him tighter. “Sorry love. Accident.” The sound of his smirk was evident in his voice.

“I suspect that John is up there.” Brian also squinted at the sky. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“You realise what that means, dear? You’re going to have to climb that tree.”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

“Brian’s a changed man these days, Fred. Didn’t you know? He’s not a pussy anymore.” 

Groaning, Brian pulled Roger along a little faster. “If only that blindfold stopped you from talking as well.”

Roger laughed. “I know you love the sound of my voice.”

“I can assure you, I do not.”

\----------

Climbing was not Brian’s forte. The rope which he was using as support gave him some peace of mind, although he was not sure how much it would help if he were to fall. The sound of Freddie and Roger below, arguing over who could catch him, didn’t fill him with confidence either. 

Still, at least it was a fairly easy tree to climb. He took each step, each branch, separately, vowing to never look down. The further up he got the thinner the branches were, and for once he was glad of his thin stature. 

Pulling himself up onto the platform was more difficult, having to shimmy on his stomach whilst gripping onto the wooden planks with his fingernails, desperate not to fall. His hair fell in his eyes as he crawled onto his hands and knees. 

He lifted his head to see faces looking down at him. 

John, standing in the middle of the group, surrounded by various commanders, raised his eyebrows.

“You took your time.” 

Brian coughed. “Is that it?” You took your time? How about thank you?” 

“I could have gotten out. They wouldn’t let me.” He shrugged.

“I’m going to take that as a thank you.”

Behind John, the group of soldiers were talking amongst themselves. Catching his breath from the end of the rather anticlimactic climb, Brian waited for someone, preferably John, to say something. 

Unsurprisingly, nothing was said, so Brian took it upon himself. “So, is that it then?”  
One of the commanders, Brian recognised him as the drill sergeant who hated Freddie, looked a little taken aback by the question. “Yes, trial finished. Your team leader should report to the main office before dinner. You may return to camp.”

“Yes sir.” Brian muttered, looking to Freddie and Roger, then back up to John. “Now how on Earth do we get down?”

\----------

It was difficult for Brian to force any food down. Whatever Freddie was talking about, it was taking forever. He picked at the mystery meat on his plate with the fork, stirring it round until it was mush. 

Opposite him, Roger was sitting, watching him eat like a hawk. Having finished his plate already, he was practically begging for the food. 

Brian slid his plate over without being asked. He was going off eating meat anyway. 

“Cheers Bri.” Roger smiled hungrily before spooning a chunk into his mouth. 

Any other time and Brian would have had a go at him for being disgusting, but all he could concentrate on was the anxiety. His leg bounced up and down as he looked to John, stoic as ever, who finished his food and placed his cutlery down.

He raised his gaze and looked Brian in the eye. Brian stared back, a little confused, before looking away. 

“Fred’s taking his time.” Roger spluttered with food still in his mouth. “Wonder what they’re saying.”

“Can you finish your mouthful, please.” John sighed. 

“Sorry.” He swallowed with a gulp. “What if they’re like kicking us out? Like what if they saw Brian trip that guy or something?”  
Brian was taken aback. “You saw that?” 

“It was pretty obvious.” He nodded, before taking another mouthful of food. 

If it was even possible, Brian became more anxious. If Roger, of all people, had seen him cheat, they could be kicking him out. What would he do then? He couldn’t go home, not after he had gotten so far, worked so hard. 

Fortunately for Brian’s mental health, Freddie had not taken his time getting from the main office to the mess hall. He sprinted through the doors, sliding across the floor gracefully to be in front of their table. 

“I have good news, darlings!”

The smile upon his face couldn’t be any larger. Brian felt the heavy weight on his chest lift. “We passed?”

“Not only that, Brian dear!” He stepped round and hooked his arms around Roger’s shoulders. “We ranked first! Isn’t that amazing?”

Brian nodded, dumbfounded. He looked to John and Roger, who didn’t look so surprised at the news.

John nodded. “Good. What does that mean then?” 

“Well, Deaky, it means I had the first choice on our first posting! We’re off in two days darlings!”

The three of them waited for more information. Freddie didn’t seem to get the idea.

“So?” Brian prompted.

“So what?”  
“Where are we going?”

Freddie smiled at Brian. “Where would you most like to go, Bri?”

He paused. He didn’t have to think of the answer, of course, but the idea that they might be going there was overwhelming. 

“London?”  
“Correct.” Reaching over, Freddie patted his head.

Brian’s jaw dropped. 

“We’re going to London.”


	6. Don't it look that way

Brian’s share of the rations, his water skin, spare clothes and sleeping mat were layed out in the sand next to his backpack. Along with the essentials he had been provided with a tool kit and a first aid box. The latter item he hoped wouldn’t get much use, but he made a mental note to pack it near the top nevertheless. 

The other three were also packing in the area around him. Having spread out the heavier items between them, they had adopted slightly different packing techniques to Brian. John was meticulous in his planning, appearing to weigh items in his hand before pushing them into, or tying them onto his bag. Freddie and Roger took a much more lacklustre approach, Freddie with significant care over his belongings, but little-to-no planning. Roger, unsurprisingly, was simply throwing things in his bag from a distance. 

Looking away from his friends and back down at his supplies, Brian was not only contemplating how to fit everything in, but also what the road ahead would hold.

This was his bag. This would be following him to London. 

Freddie had said it was just a guard posting, relieving some soldiers at the inner wall, and told him not to get his hopes up. But he couldn’t help but be a little excited. 

Even if they were working, they had to have some time off. And besides, nobody had lived in London since the bombs dropped. Why would they not have some time to explore?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Roger tackling Freddie into the ground. Shaking his head, Brian watched them scream and roll around in the dirt before turning back to his bag and shoved all his clothes into the bottom of it. 

To his side, John had already finished packing, and pushed his bag over, straps tightened, and perched on top of it. There he sat, chin resting in his hand, completely silent. Brian wondered what he was looking at, eyes still and fixed on a point in the distance. 

“You alright Deaky?”

John turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Brian shrugged. “I guess you just seem a little distant.”

“Do I not always seem a little distant?”

With that, Brian made the decision to stop questioning. John did have a point after all; it wasn’t unlike him to not be talking to the rest of them. 

Maybe it was because the camp was quieter than before. They were one of the last squads to set off, which did have its benefits- namely fewer queues in the showers and larger meals. However, Brian had been waiting in anticipation for this day for a week now, and having nothing else to do, the excitement had only built. 

The bus was due to arrive at midday. Brian’s watch showed it at only 9am. It was yet more time to waste, a process which Freddie and Roger seemed to be excelling at, but Brian struggled. He had already read all three of his books for what must have been the thousenth time (the books, had of course been packed safely in his bag), and he must have gone through the mission briefing in his head so many times that it would be impossible to forget. 

The inner wall. History lessons had told him about the walls built around London. Soon after the bombs had dropped in other far countries, places Brian couldn’t even name, the British government had built three walls around the capital city. It was to stop people getting into a high risk area, according to the official reports. Looking at the death toll, however, it was easy to see that the walls were to stop people from getting out. 

Governments lied. That's why the war happened in the first place. It was a blessing that England didn’t have one anymore; life was better and safer without those people in charge. Apparently even the split of settlements-Scotland and some of the northern counties of England- had gotten rid of their skeleton governments. 

The walls still stood though. The outer wall was barely notable, partly inhabited by small villages and free to pass through. The middle wall had been badly damaged by the bombs, and badly damaged further when the Thames had dried up. But the inner wall still stood. And no civilian was allowed past it. 

But Brian wasn’t a civilian anymore. And he was going to see this history for himself.

\----------

Finishing packing didn’t fill too much time. With at least an hour left to wait, Squad 39 found themselves sitting atop their rucksacks, all four of them ready to go, eyes focused on the road as they waited for the bus. 

Freddie and Roger shortly resumed their rock throwing game, thankfully not towards Brian this time. Brian watched as they slowed down, and Roger pulled Freddie’s head under his arm into a motion that was somewhere between a hug and a headlock. The look on his face was distinctly sad, however, in contrast to Freddie’s more joyous expression. 

Noticing the same thing, Freddie appeared to whisper something to him. Whatever he had said, it hadn’t gone down well, as Roger huffed and gave him a glare before walking back to sit on his bag.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, dear.” He called, earning no response.

Brian raised an eyebrow curiously. “Wrong with what?”

Looking over at Roger, who had a face on and was ignoring the conversation despite only being a few meters away, Freddie sighed. “I may have suggested he was a little anxious about heading to the city.”

“Which I’m not.” Roger added, although hardly convincingly. 

From the other side of Brian, John cleared his throat. “I’m nervous.”

There was silence before Brian coughed, followed by a much too loud laugh from Roger. 

“Why’s that funny?”

“It’s not that it’s funny, darling, it’s just,” Freddie paused, “it’s just unexpected, I guess.”

“It would be stupid not to be scared, quite frankly.” John explained, looking down and picking at his nails. “We’re going to a city that’s supposedly not been populated for over twenty years. Why would they send soldiers to London if there’s nobody there?”  
“They’re stopping people from getting in. Because it’s dangerous.” The words fell from Brian’s mouth like he was reciting a speech, but he had to admit that John’s words had thrown him. 

“No disrespect, Brian, but I think you’re the only person in this whole fucking country who want’s to go there.”

“What do you mean?”

Freddie stood up and went to move between them. “I think that’s enough of that conversation, how about noughts and crosses in the sand?”

“No, Fred, I want to know what he meant.”

“I mean.” John looked up from his hands. “I mean that it’s a little bit weird that they’d send soldiers to stop people getting into a city that no one even thinks about going to.”

“What do you reckon it’s for then Deaky?” From the side Roger piped up, evidently interested.

John shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“So noughts and crosses?” Freddie smiled as he drew out a grid with his foot, and Brian tried his best to ignore what John had said. 

\----------

The bus was late, unsurprisingly. It was a tiny thing, white paint coat barely evident anymore, with half the windows missing. The ploom of black smoke dissipated after a minute, and they were able to board the vehicle. 

Freddie got on first, spoke a few words to the driver that Brian couldn’t hear over the rattle of the engine, then pulled his bag on behind him. 

The others soon followed, Brian getting on last. As he dragged his rucksack onto one of the chairs he smiled at the driver, as cheerily as he could whilst lifting the heavy weight. He received no smile in return. The driver pulled a lever and the door shut, the bus beginning to roll before Brian had even got a chance to sit down. 

Swinging round with hands gripping tightly to the headrest of the first seat, he took his place on the worn leather, the central chair as John perched at the front and Freddie and Roger had immediately claimed the two back seats. There was a plastic window pane next to him, on which he rested his cheek, and silently looked out towards the slowly disappearing camp. Unlike when he had left home, he knew this would be the last time he ever saw this place. A place that had changed his life so much, would soon be insignificant. He wasn’t too worried about leaving it behind. 

Neither the landscape nor the mood changed significantly, as they drove through what was probably once winding roads through fields and forests, but had now been reduced to the same orange dust that covered everything. There was no map to follow, but Brian could only presume they had a long way to go. He buckled up, and readied himself for a long journey, staring out the window quietly.

\----------

The inner wall was visible from a long way away. They must have passed the outer wall at some point, presumed Brian, but he had not noticed it. A line of rubble that stretched as far as the eye could see was all that remained of the middle wall; Brian had pointed it out to his companions as they drove through it, but had received little interest. 

But the inner wall was a different story. They had all seen the inner wall, and were all very much interested. Although still a few miles away, the barrier of brick and concrete was visible behind the rows of much smaller abandoned buildings. The sun, now low in the west, only seemed to illuminate its presence further. Silhouetted behind it was the faint lines of skyscraper buildings, poking their heads over the great monstrosity, taller than anything any of them had seen before. 

“It’s- it’s strangely beautiful. In an ugly sort of way.” Freddie was the first to speak. “Our new home.”

“Yeah.” Trying not to fall victim to the butterflies of excitement in his stomach, Brian smiled. “Home.” 

Gawking out the window in amazement only lasted so long, and was soon replaced by confusion when the bus came to a stop having only travelled halfway down the road. The removal of the juttering engine sound was pleasant, and for the first time Brian was able to hear the driver’s voice. 

“Bus doesn’t go any further.” He croaked, opening the door again. “You can walk the rest of the way.”

“But the road continues up to the wall?” Argued Freddie. 

The man laughed. “I know it does. But I don’t take my bus any further than here.” 

“Why?” It was John who asked, threatening in his tone. 

“You don’t need to know. They’re expecting you at the gatehouse. Now get off my bus before I force you out.”

That was enough persuasion to get them out of the bus and onto the sandy tarmac. Bags on shoulders, the four waited until they were truly on their own before speaking. The sun was scarily low in the sky, fears of which Brian relayed to the others. 

“It’ll be easier to find if it’s still light. I don’t know if they’re expecting us, they might not have any lights up.”  
“He’s right.” John hiked his bag up so it was further up his shoulders, and without another word began to walk towards the wall.

Turning towards the remaining pair, Brian shrugged, and followed after.

\----------

By the time they had reached the wall, Roger was already carrying Brian’s bag for him. He didn’t seem to struggle with carrying twice the load, whereas Brian was lagging behind even with his lighter bag. That, along with the fact Freddie kept asking to be carried as well, meant that the three of them were a significant distance away from John. 

The man at the far front had stopped just short of the gate, which Brian was thankful for. Not because he was worried about John getting into trouble- he knew he was capable enough of caring for himself- instead he was concerned about what their new commanders would think if they showed up separated. 

As they got close enough to see his face, however, something changed in Brian’s mood. Most of the time you couldn’t discern anything from John’s face, but at that moment he could be read like a book. Something was wrong.

“What’s up, Deaky?” Brian shouted as they got closer.

John mouthed something in response, but the distance was still too far to work out what he was saying. Turning to Freddie and Roger, Brian looked for some confirmation, but only received a shrug and a worried expression. 

“Maybe he’s just waiting for us?” Freddie offered.

Clearing his throat, Roger said what they’d all been thinking. “No. Somethings wrong.”

Roger couldn’t have been more right. 

Except that it wasn’t a ‘something’ that was wrong. It was a lack of anything. Where they had been expecting to meet soldiers at the gate, and be thrown back into a similar busy environment like the camp, they were instead met by a ghost town. 

The barrier at the gate hung by a thread, slowly swaying in the slight breeze. Other than the soft clacking noise that it made, the area was otherwise silent. The four stood side by side in front of the wall, waiting for someone to say something. 

Nobody did. 

Brian’s mouth hung open. He shut it slowly, and looked from side to side. 

“We should go in.” 

Pulling his gun from his belt and flicking the safety switch, John sighed. “Fuck it.”

Holding the weapon out in front of him, he stepped forward and over the broken gate. Without hesitation he edged his way around the corner and out of view. 

“We should follow him.” Roger spoke hesitantly, then sounded much more urgent at a sudden crash from the other side of the wall. “We should definitely follow him.”

Drawing their weapons as well, Roger and Freddie headed forwards, with Brian following hot on their heels. Holding the gun in his hand already felt normal, but the thought of having to use it against an actual person was not. Nevertheless, it was something he needed to do. 

“Deaky?” Whispered Freddie cautiously. “Deacon what’s round there?”

“Where the fuck is he?” Brian kicked the gate as he stepped over it. “What if something happened?”

“Be quiet darling. He’s quite capable.” 

Brian looked around for any sign of his friend. There wasn't much to be seen, the gate having opened up into a small courtyard that was presumably used for processing long ago. The walls were stone and cast a shadow even in the low light, filling the area with an inescapable gloom. The floor wasn’t completely filled with rubble, but it wasn’t far from. Not only rocks and metal, but old weapons and degrading fabric, a odd reminder of the old world. 

Mixed in, almost coating the rubble, was what at first looked like a flaking brown paint, but on further inspection was not so. To confirm his suspicions, Brian reached out to one of the knives near his feet and rubbed his fingers along the hilt. There was no denying what it was. 

“Blood.” He stated to his companions.

“Johns?” 

“No.” Brian replied, moving the knife out of the way with his foot. “It’s old.” 

“What do you think happened here?” Roger asked, also wading through the rubble.

Nobody replied. 

“And where the fuck is Deaky?” He asked after receiving silence. “You don’t think it’s got anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Either we keep going into London.” Freddie whispered. “Or we check these buildings first.” He pointed to the two doors either side of the courtyard. 

“What would John do? We should go-”

Brian was cut off, and the decision was instantly made for them. Three heads turned simultaneously as a bang shattered the quiet. 

A gunshot sounded from the building on the left.


	7. I slam the door

“You can’t just fucking do that.” 

Brian watched as the scene unfolded infront of him. He was hesitant to join in, not completely sure which side he was meant to be on in the confrontation. It wasn’t as if he could help much either way, because Roger already had John pinned against the wall, and Brian was no match in strength against either of them. 

John shrugged, or at least tried to with his back against the wall. “The door was locked so I shot the lock off.”

“Not that. Wandering off without us. What happened to sticking together, like they told us to?”

“I’m surprised you’ve suddenly decided to follow the rules, Rog.” John smiled. 

Putting a hand on Roger’s shoulder and gently pulling him back, Freddie stood between the two. “You’re right, darling, but breaking his arms isn’t going to help us. Don’t do it again, John.”

“Noted.” 

Brian wondered whether he actually meant it. He assumed they would probably lose John again at some point. 

“Back to business.” Freddie continued. “What did you find?”

“Just looks like an abandoned army building. Most of the rooms are completely cleared out but there's some old documents if you’re interested Bri.” 

“Yeah, I’ll take a look.” Brain smiled, failing to hide his excitement at the not-so interesting concept.

“May I make a suggestion?” 

“You are in charge, Fred.” Laughed Roger.

“I like to think of this as a democracy.” The joking was short lived, as his face changed to be much more somber. “Nobody’s said it yet. But there’s no one here. The army isn’t here and people don’t just disappear. We have no way of getting back, and it’s dark. I suggest we wait here for at least the night and plan our next move.”

“Oh. They didn’t disappear.”

Brian, Roger and Freddie turned to face John, awaiting an explanation.

“There’s probably six or seven bodies in there.”

Roger coughed. “And you neglected to mention that? You said the place was abandoned?”

“They weren't exactly inhabiting the place. We should probably get rid of them if we’re going to stay here. At least move them into a different room.” 

Trying not to think about John’s nonchalant way of speaking about dead people, Brian spoke up. “Did they look diseased? Or-”

“Couple of sniper shots, some close combat wounds. No need to worry yourself.”

“I’m still worried.” Freddie murmured, sitting down cross-legged on the concrete floor. “We should reinforce the place as well. Give us some time to work out what happened.” 

Brian laughed, reading Freddie like an open book. “You can just say if you don’t want to see the bodies.”

“Oh thank God. How about I heat us up some dinner whilst you guys- you know- tidy up?”

“Sounds like a better plan than any.” 

\----------

It was a grim task to collect the bodies. Brian tried his hardest to dissociate himself from it, but it was difficult to forget they were people. Admittedly long dead people, but people with personalities, with relationships and dreams just like everyone else. 

There were seven in total. Laid out side by side in the courtyard. Brian had looked for something to cover them with for at least a smidgen of respect, but there was nothing to be found. Whoever had done this had completely cleared out the place. 

Figuring that it was better to do something that nothing at all, Brian began taking the jackets off of the soldiers and covering their faces. He was slow and careful with it, working in such silence that he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

“You know that this isn’t going to fix anything?” Brian turned to see John leaning in the doorway. 

Brian felt his stomach sink. “I didn’t-”

“It’s okay. I see where you’re coming from. They should be treated with respect.” He held out a pile of papers towards Brian. “They were in the locked room, whoever it was that did this didn’t take them.”

“Thanks. Leave them inside, I’ll be in-” He stopped as he turned and looked to the body beneath him. Something was off. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in soon.” Placing the jacket over the dead man's face, he hesitated to look underneath his T-shirt as well. 

John moved closer behind him. “What is it?”

“The blood that’s coming through his shirt. It doesn’t look right.” The thin fabric peeled back with some effort. It was difficult for Brian not to throw up.

Into the man’s chest was a symbol, shallowly carved in with a blade. It vaguely resembled a cross with a hand in front of it, and the work was hardly shoddy- significant time was taken to produce it. 

“Someone did this after he was dead.” Brian explained, looking up at John, who now stood over him. “Who would do this?”

John looked worried, an expression that Brian didn’t like to see on the usually stoic man’s face. “I don’t know. But I think we should go inside.”

\----------

“We can’t stay here.” Brian murmured, only picking at the food Freddie had made. The pre-packed rations weren’t anything special anyway. “We should head further in.”

With no light outside and no plan on where they would head, Brian knew he wasn’t going to convince anyone at that moment. Sat on the floor in a circle next to him, his comrades only looked tired. Freddie had his cheek resting on Roger’s shoulder, whilst Roger looked as if he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Slightly further apart, John looked lost in thought. 

“Although, I guess we should rest tonight. “ He sighed. “Shall I take first watch?”

“I can do it, if you need some rest?” John offered.

“I’ll be fine for now. You three look as if you’re struggling to stay upright.” He smiled, placing his hand on the documents John had given him. “Besides, I’ve got plenty of reading material.”

“You’ll be sure to wake me up after a couple of hours, though?” 

He was slightly offended at his tone of voice, and the way he spoke to Brian as if he were a child. “Of course. I know what I’m doing, John.” 

“I know.”

John stood up and began collecting the rubbish remaining from their meal. He chucked them in one of the corners of the room, not caring about keeping the area clean. Brian was tempted to ask him to put it somewhere more hygienic, but seeing as he didn’t plan on them staying in the building for too long, he decided to keep his concerns silent. 

After a short while of unenthusiastic chatter, Brian’s companions fell asleep. They spread around the small room, not wanting to spread around the building that was so new to them. Not yet. If something were to happen, they’d all want to be together. John, Freddie and Roger had all lined their sleeping mats against the far wall, keeping warm in the night with the thin blankets they had been provided. 

It was cold without the cover, even being out of the wind. Brian considered tuning on the boiler the building no doubt had, but decided against it. There was only one gas canister left in the kitchen, and the steam from the boiler exit pipe would surely give away their position. 

Instead he kept himself warm by reading. The papers were surprisingly neat for army documents, dog-eared in the top corner to hold them together in a pile. Reading through them slowly, he traced each line with his index finger. 

The words fell away from the paper as he read. Details of past missions, old maps of the city, accounts of people who had tried to pass through the gates. Nothing points towards any danger, nothing seemed to point towards any enemies of the state. 

At the back of the pile was a set of profiles. He flicked through them quickly, but paused at the recognition of a face. And then the recognition of another face. These were not just any profiles, they were the names, the details, and the photos of the people who had once served here. The people that Brian had only hours earlier placed in the courtyard. 

“Shit.” He mumbled to himself, careful not to wake the others. It was so much worse now he could put names to the faces. 

Taking more care to read each profile individually, Brian found himself surrounded by the papers, sitting in the middle of the room with them around him like leaves fallen off a tree. By the time his watch was over, he was practically lost in it. 

Despite the fact that his eyes were closing, he kept going for an hour or so longer, only stopping when he noticed a pair of eyes, glowing in the torch light.

Sitting up with a huff and slowly pushing Roger out of the way, Freddie looked to Brian. He checked his watch, and sleepily raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t still be up.” 

“I-”

“It’s alright dear, I won't tell.” He wiggled to pull himself out of the sleeping bag and hung his jacket around his shoulders. “What are all these papers?”

“It’s the people who were here before. The ones that- you know-” He kept his voice at a whisper, not wanting to wake the sleeping members of their squad. 

Freddie picked one up and looked at it. Brian watched his face change from worried to almost proud. “And you’ve read them all.” 

“Every one. It felt wrong to just let them be forgotten. This was horrible.”

Picking up the rest of the papers, Freddie piled them together and folded them into a small square, tucking it in his pocket. “This was reality. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could just have easily been us, killed like this.”

“No. We’ll find who did this. We can fix it, stop anyone else from dying.” 

“I think you need to go to sleep, Brian dear.”

“Sure. Yeah.” He handed his torch to Freddie and went to pull his roll mat off his rucksack. “Hey, Fred?”

“Yes dear?”

“You put the profiles in your pocket.” 

“Well it’s like you said. It’s wrong to let them be forgotten.” He smiled softly. “Goodnight darling.”

\----------

The feeling of cold was heavy on Brian’s chest when he woke. The room was light once again, and the sound of a repetitive hammering was all that he could hear. He pulled his hands over his ears but it barely muffled it. 

“Bloody hell, what is that?” He groaned, trying to block it out before it drove him insane.

“Roger and Freddie.” John’s voice came from above him. “Nothing weird, don’t worry. They’re trying to barricade the windows.” 

“What?”   
“Some of the casualties had injuries from a sniper rifle and-” he stopped and looked down at Brian. “And you don’t need to worry about that right now. Here-”

Sitting up, Brian took the warm travel mug that was handed to him. He held it up to the lips and took a sip of the milky tea. The powdered milk they had been provided was abysmal compared to the farmed milk he was used to back home, but it was nice to have something warm in the morning. It was nice to not have to get out of bed for it as well. 

“Thanks. Did anything happen whilst I was asleep?”

“Quiet. Nothing to see either side of the wall.” John looked towards where the hammering was coming from. “Rog made us breakfast, but I would just eat some of your dry rations if I were you.”

“Was it bad?”

He laughed. “Like a bomb had gone off. Hurry up and eat though, Freddie wants us to meet and discuss the plan.”

“Yeah, of course.” Smiling up at John, he took another sip of tea. 

Somewhere from outside there was the distinct sound of something being dropped, causing one of John’s eyebrows to raise slowly. When the brief moment of silence from the hammering was replaced by the muffled sound of Freddie shouting expletives at Roger. 

John placed the empty mug he was holding onto the floor next to Brian. “I should go help.” 

“I think that’s a very good idea.” 

\----------

“We can’t go back.” Brian held a finger up as Roger tried to interrupt him. “I don’t care. We can’t go back. How do you even plan on getting there? Are you going to run all the way home?”

Roger shrugged. “We wait for the bus?”

“Brian’s right, I’m afraid. They don’t know we’re here alone, so no ones coming for us until there's another supply drop. And that could be weeks.” 

“Seventeen days.” John piped in, having kept characteristically quiet through the conversation so far. Brian didn’t even question how he knew exactly how many days it would be.

“I say we go out into the city, try and find something that tells us who did this. At least then when we do have contact with the army, we’ve got something to show them.”

Freddie smiled enthusiastically. “Well you’ve got the maps. Plot a route and we’ll head out just before midday.”

“So we’re just going with Brian’s plan?”

“Rog, you’re here to hit things and do as you’re told. Planning things is literally my job.”

Roger chucked the piece of rubble he was fidgeting with towards where Brian was sitting. “Fuck off, will you?” 

“He’s only joking, dear.” Freddie ruffled his hair, earning an angered glance. “We’ll want to be quiet, so just me and Brian will go-”

“Wait a second, I thought my job was to hit things? Isn’t this what I do?”

“Yes, but bleach blonde hair and bright pink shoes don’t exactly blend in. You and John can finish reinforcing the windows.”

“Brian’s wearing clogs!” Roger argued.

“And I’m in charge. Do as you’re told.” Freddie walked out the room and began gathering supplies for the scouting. 

As he left earshot Roger began to mumble about how Freddie only acted professionally when he wanted to stop him doing something, to which Brian laughed. To the side of him, he could faintly hear the sound of John chuckling, covering his mouth with his hand. Smiling, Brian collected the maps and a pencil, and began circling areas of interest.

\----------

Brian’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped out past the wall and into the city. Whatever feeling he had when he had first arrived was only amplified as he looked out over the horizon, illuminated by the sun, high in the sky. 

Despite the damage that he knew had been done by the bombs, there was a surprising amount of structures still intact. Many shells of the houses around were still standing, the metal skeletons of skyscrapers still loomed in the distance. Nature had reclaimed the place, but human society still had a fingertip grasp remaining. 

It was almost beautiful. Almost.

Freddie walked in front of him, silently looking out to the city also. 

They walked for another ten minutes or so with Brian calling out the occasional direction, and the two stopping at any places of interest Brian had marked out. Bigger buildings, power sources. Places where bandits would live. 

At the verge of the place where Brian would have called it a day and headed back to the wall, he spotted something in the distance. 

“Hey, Fred? Do you see that?”

Freddie turned to look at him. “On the wall? Do you think it’s blood?”

“I hope not.” He squinted at it, trying to make out the details. It was on the wall of what used to be a shopping centre, an old billboard that had long ago faded to white. But there was no mistaking what it was. A red St Georges cross, with a fist painted in front of it. More detailed, but unmistakably the same as the carvings he had seen in the dead soldiers chest. “I’ve seen this before. It’s got something to do with the people who attacked the base.”

“So we go in?” Asked Freddie, drawing his gun.

Brian nodded, also pulling his pistol from the holster. “After you.” 

The doors to the shopping centre were made of glass, old and no longer automatic, so Freddie prised them open with his hand. Quietly, they entered the hallway. Either side of them were boarded up shops, kept from destruction by nature but broken into and looted years ago. They had entered on the second floor, but in the centre of the hall was a gap in the floor and ceiling, showing another layer of shops both below and above.

Their shoes made a quiet tapping on the marble floor. Brian was careful to walk as lightly as he could, but there was no disguising the sound, especially as there was nothing else to be heard. If there was anyone else there, they were keeping quiet. Or very still. 

“Down there.” Freddie whispered, gesturing to the bottom floor. “Someone’s been here.” 

Leaning over the glass banister, Brian looked down at a pile of ash from a fire pit, surrounded by empty cans and packages. There was enough to suggest a large group of people, but not enough to suggest they were still here. That was, except, something that caught his eye in the far corner, next to an old fountain. 

A leather jacket, at first seemingly unimportant, but underneath it was the shape of a bag. It was unlikely an individual would leave anything unguarded in a place like this, so this led to the obvious conclusion. Someone was still there. 

Brian’s breath caught in his chest. “Freddie. I think someone’s still here.” 

“Do we go?”

“You’re in charge.” He whispered back aggressively. “You’re meant to know.”

“I don’t know! Is someone really here?”

“I don’t know! Maybe? Probably?”

Freddie sighed and looked around. “Fuck. We can’t stay here. Go to that pillar.”

Stumbling, Brian ran to the pillar next to one of the boarded up shops. Freddie slunk over to the one opposite with much more grace. Hands shaking around his gun, Brian waited for what was coming next. He waited for another minute or so, but when he saw nothing, he looked to Freddie and mouthed ‘what now?’.

He shrugged and leaned out, looking around aimlessly.

Brian copied him and looked around, using his height to look as far down into the floor below as he could. 

He immediately flew back into cover again when he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him. And a gun pointed right at his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being cruel, I did not realise I'd left two cliffhanger chapters in a row when writing this... Anyway, a little bit of an earlier update because why not?


	8. Stray my love

Plaster fell into Brian’s hair as a bullet slammed into the ceiling above him. He swore quietly as he pressed himself further into the corner as he could. Opposite him, Freddie was flat against the wall, more successfully hidden behind the pillar. 

Brian shut his eyes and kept quiet, waiting for another shot but hoping that it wouldn’t come. In his mind all he could picture was the man he had seen only moments previous, the look in his eyes as he stared with such passion.

“Hello?” Freddie’s voice called out before another shot was fired. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

The man answered with another gunshot, this time towards Freddie.

Brian opened one eye just in time to watch Freddie recoil, then instantly regain his composure. He spoke whilst breathing heavily. “Well that wasn’t very nice, was it dear? Come on now, I’m Freddie and this is my friend Brian with the curly hair.”

Hearing this, Brian shook his head at Freddie. Whoever this man was, it wasn’t going to do them any favours having their names out there. Peeking out again, Brian got a better look at the man. Fortunately he wasn’t noting their names down, but he was aiming towards where Freddie stood. 

“I don’t care.” The man shouted out in an accent that Brian had only heard from older people in his civilisation that had escaped London before it was bombed. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Freddie called back. Brian watched as the man aimed again and took another shot towards him. “Fuck! Hey, I thought we were talking.”

“The rebellion will know about this. How many more of you are there? They’ll kill you all.”

Freddie laughed, the nerves no longer present in his voice but Brian could see his hands shaking. “I don’t even know what that is, darling. How about you calm down and we talk about it properly?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

This wasn’t getting anywhere, and they both knew it. Brian looked round for an exit plan, but there wasn’t much choice other than just running for it, and that would involve leaving cover. And probably getting shot. 

Biting his lip, Freddie looked to Brian, speaking quietly. “We’re gonna have to kill him.” 

His mouth opened wide. “What?” 

“You heard what I said. Can you see him?”

“Yeah-” Brian looked out again to see that the man hadn’t moved, and was aiming towards the wall Freddie was behind. “I’m not going to do it.”

“I can’t see him. I’ll distract him, you take the shot.” Raising his voice, he then shouted to the man. “No one’s managed to get me to shut up before, darling. I really doubt it’s going to be you.”

“No! Freddie, I can’t do that.” The man was wandering closer towards the sound of Freddie’s voice. Brian had a clear shot on him, but couldn’t bring himself to aim the gun. They didn’t know who this man was, but he was a person. He wasn’t going to kill him, be the one responsible for his death. And besides, there had to be plenty to learn by keeping him alive. “What if he has information?” 

“Information?” Exclaimed Freddie, much too loud. Instantly, a bullet hit the plaster, just inches away from Freddie’s side. He squealed, then whispered again. “Information? What good is it going to be if we’re dead?”

“I can’t kill somebody.”

“You joined the army, Brian. This was part of the deal. When he stops to reload, shoot him. At least try and disarm him or something.” 

“Fuck.” Brian muttered and pressed himself back against the wall. He shut his eyes again and tried to control his breathing, slowing it down as best he could. This was almost impossible due to the constant noises around him. 

After a few seconds of realising hiding wasn’t helping the situation at all, Brian took a deep breath and looked out again. He watched as their enemy took another shot, then clicked the empty magazine out of the pistol.

“Is he reloading?”

Brain took a quick glance to Freddie, and nodded at him. 

“Okay. Do it now.”

Shaking, Brian leaned out further so half of his body was exposed, and aimed, just as he had been taught. It felt so wrong. It wasn’t just that he had never fired at a moving target before, but also that the consequences were so much heavier. He didn’t want to be a killer. Would this make him a killer?

He’d been thinking too long. It was a mistake to think. The man had reloaded his pistol and had seen Brian. Was this it?

Brian couldn’t move. His arms fell to the side and his gun clattered to the floor. He could swear he saw the man laugh, but he couldn’t be sure. The ringing in his ears was too loud. The floor moved sideways as he felt himself fall down, and the sound of three gunshots shocked the room. 

The world was spinning. 

It hurt to breathe. He couldn’t breathe. 

Something was pressing down on his hand. 

It was Freddie, lying next to him and mouthing something. Brian couldn’t hear what he was saying. 

“What?” He muttered, words falling out of his mouth. 

“I said, are you alright, dear?”

Coming to his senses, Brian slowly moved both legs and arms, then cracked his neck from side to side. Nothing hurt. 

“I’m fine?” He looked to Freddie, who’s face went from concerned to scarily still. “I’m fine. What- what happened?”

“For fucks sake Brian.” Freddie stood up, dusting himself down then walking over to the banister. “He’s dead. I shot him.”

“Oh.” 

“Get up. We’ve got work to do.” Without saying another word, he strolled off at a fast pace, heading towards the broken down escalator at the far side of the hall. 

Brain scrambled to his feet and grabbed his gun off the ground. He still felt shaky, but his breathing had slowed and they were out of danger. At least for that moment. One thing was clear, Freddie was cross with him. 

He didn’t say a word as he slowly descended the broken escalator, gripping tightly to the worn down rubber sides. The bottom floor had the same white marble floors, but with one distinct difference. Underneath where Freddie stood the marble was splattered in red. 

Freddie looked pale. He wasn’t looking directly at the body, instead going through the rucksack on the side, but Brian knew that the very presence of the dead would be making him uncomfortable. The fact he was trying to hide his fear only made Brian feel worse. Watching from a distance, Brian watched him slowly empty out the bag, lining up its contents along the emptied out fountain. 

“I’ll search the body.” Mumbled Brian as he slowly walked past. Freddie didn’t answer. 

Three gunshot wounds was probably overkill. Any one of them would have been a fatal wound, but it wasn’t the time to critique Freddie’s technique. Brian tried not to look at the man's face. He couldn’t overthink it, not when there was nothing to be done about it. 

As he looked through the pockets of the jacket, he couldn’t help but think back to the dead soldiers at the gate. Were they not also ambushed where they were living? If they couldn’t prove that this guy had anything to do with it, were they not just as bad?

“Fred, are we bad people?”

Freddie huffed. “We’re alive people.” 

He did have a point- they weren’t the ones to start shooting. If that wasn’t enough reassurance, seeing the fist shaped logo stitched into the leather jacket was. This man might have not killed those soldiers, but his organisation was directly involved. 

Struggling, Brian took the jacket off the dead man. It was a gruesome task, but seemed necessary, this jacket was a clue to whoever their new enemy was. He tied it rond his waist, the leather cracking slightly at the seams. Freddie noticed this, and picked up the second jacket and shoved it in the rucksack. Watching him, Brian noted how he took a wad of paper and a variety of rations and threw them on top of the jacket, before swinging the bag round onto his shoulder.

“We should go.” He muttered, not even looking at Brian. “You lead the way.”   
Brian nodded. “Okay. Should we just-” he motioned to the body beside him. 

“Leave him. It’s not safe here.” 

“Are you sure?” He wasn’t completely comfortable leaving the body there for numerous reasons. And he knew Freddie wouldn’t be happy leaving a dead man so disrespectfully, even if he had tried to kill them. 

“Just follow the order.”

“Okay.” 

Brian walked up the escalator, and only hoped that Freddie was following behind him.

\----------

It was incredibly unlike Freddie to not say anything for thirty seconds, never mind ten minutes. If it wasn’t for the sound of heeled shoes tailing him, he wouldn’t have been sure he was there at all. 

Brian had really fucked up this time. 

They got back to the courtyard to find Roger hanging off one of the second floor windows and John standing cross-armed watching him, obviously unamused. Briefly Brian wondered if he should ask what was going on, but decided against it. If it was important John would tell him, if it wasn’t Roger would probably brag about it later.

“What happened?” John immediately asked as Brian had barely passed the gate to the courtyard.

Looking around aimlessly, and noting that Freddie was still a few paces behind him, Brian was confused. “How do you know something happened?”

John smiled. To the side of him, Roger was slowly climbing his way down to join the conversation. This was mostly ignored by John, other than a despairing look when he momentarily lost his footing and yelped. 

“Something has always happened.” His head turned slightly at the sight of Freddie walking through the archway into the courtyard. “And besides, Freddie looks pissed and you’ve got blood on your hands.”

“What? How could you possibly know-”

“There’s literally blood on your hands, Bri.” Called Roger as he landed three-point in the rubble.

Brian looked down at his palms. They were right, his hands were very obviously reddened with blood. It made him feel a little sick. “We killed a guy?”

“There was a guy?” Roger asked, running towards Brian. John stayed firmly in place, arms still crossed. 

“We didn’t kill a guy.” From behind Brian, Freddie’s voice was a little louder than normal. He leaned on the ‘we’ almost sarcastically. “I killed a guy, Brian hid behind a wall.”

“I’m sure Brian had his reasons.” Defended John emotionlessly, still standing far away. 

Walking forward, Freddie patted Brian’s shoulder. “Did you Bri?” 

Brian looked to the floor. 

“Why does it matter anyway?” Roger wrapped his arms around Freddie’s shoulders from behind and made a faux jump onto his back. “Who was the guy?”

“This is serious.” He brushed Roger off his shoulder. “What if it happens again?”

“You know you’re going to have to say what happened in order for us to know what you’re arguing about.” Commented John, which was largely ignored.

“Do you want one of us to die?”

“No.” Brian mumbled. He felt like a child being scolded.

“You panicked. We’re not meant to panic for fuck's sake, we’re meant to fight.”

Freddie glared at Brian. He had never looked so angry before. 

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?” 

“Tell me I’ve not got a point, darling.” Freddie spoke in a softer tone to Roger. It only made Brian feel worse.

Roger didn’t answer. 

“Maybe we should continue this discussion inside?” Holding his arms out in disbelief, John was ignored again. 

“We’re fine, aren’t we?” Brian asked Freddie. “And I told you I couldn’t do it. You’re being ridiculous Fred.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” He argued back. 

“Here’s a thought. Maybe you’re both being ridiculous?” Roger asked.

Brain felt himself yanked backwards by his collar, and turned his neck to see John pulling him towards the door. “For once, Roger’s right. Inside. Now.”

Holding his hands to his neck, Brian tried to object, but stood no chance. Instead he let John pull him backwards through the rubble. He stumbled a little, but managed to barely keep his footing on the concrete. “Why are you so cross with me?” He looked to Freddie, who Roger was also dragging forward by his sleeve. 

He shrugged and grabbed at Roger’s hand. 

Roger scowled and didn’t take it back. Evidently, if Brian was in trouble, Freddie was too. 

They made their way into the building at speed due to John’s forceful dragging. As soon as they were indoors, he let go of Brian’s collar, letting him fall arse first onto the floor. He shuffled backwards to allow Roger to also unceremoniously dump Freddie next to him and slam the door shut. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” He asked, blocking the exit. “Are you gonna tell us what's happening or what?”

Freddie didn’t answer, so Brian chirped up and recollected the events. Either side of the room, his companions listened but never interrupted him. Throughout, Freddie watched closely, but didn’t add anything. It felt awkward, but the longer he spoke, the more tensions seemed to cool.

“Who was he?” John asked once Brian’s speech had trailed off. 

“I’m not sure. There’s these jackets though-” 

“Armed Rebellion of South England.” For the first time in a while Freddie spoke up. “It’s written on the front of the folder I found in his bag. There’s more people. A lot more people.”

Behind him, Roger started laughing, earning an immediate glare from the other three. “What?” He chuckled. “Armed Rebellion of South England. They’re called arse.”

“It’s not funny.” John was deadpan, but Brian could tell he was holding back a smile. “Anyway. I seem to have missed what all that shouting was about. Do you care to elaborate?”

Brian sighed. “I fucked up.” 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, much gentler than it had been the last time it was there. Freddie no longer looked cross, instead more on the verge of tears. “No, dear, you didn’t.” 

“I mean it’s Brian so-” Roger interrupted, but stopped when John shot him a look. Briefly Brian wondered whether John had managed to train him in the time they’d gone, but soon turned his attention back to their squad leader. 

“You panicked. It’s happened to everyone-” Pausing, he looked to John, “-almost everyone.” 

Confused yet again, Brian raised an eyebrow. “What? You didn’t speak to me the whole way back?”

“You nearly died. We’ve been here a day and you’ve already nearly died. I was cross at you for being in so much danger and cross at myself for putting you in so much danger. We shouldn’t be going on any missions of any threat without one of these two-” He gestured to their other two team members. 

“It’s true, we can take a couple of bullets.” Roger smirked. Brian knew he was going to get a lot of ‘I told you so’s from the blond for not taking him, but the man seemingly managed to restrain himself for that moment. 

Freddie whacked him playfully. “That’s not what I mean, darling. I’m sorry Bri. And I promise I’m not cross anymore.”    
  


Brian leaned forward and hugged him close. As his mouth was adjacent to Freddie’s ear, he whispered quietly so no one else would hear. 

“I won’t panic next time.” 

And although it wasn’t something he could guarantee to anyone else, Brian himself knew it was true. 

\----------

The night fell with an orange glow that seeped in through the cracks of the barricaded windows. Light flowed onto the occupants of the room, printing the shadows of them onto the cold floor. 

Brian was playing an incredibly slow game of snap with Roger, who sat opposite him with Freddie’s head in his lap. Freddie was snoozing softly as fingers slowly stroked through his hair. As Brian waited for Roger to place his next card, he looked out to where John sat. At the other side of the room, rifle in hand, looking out of the gap he had created for himself in the window. The sunlight illuminated him, making his hair look like strands of gold that twisted down his shoulders. 

He only realised he had been staring when Roger called out snap, and John turned to look back at him. He quickly spun round to look away.

“Hey Bri?”

Awkwardly, Brian turned to look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Come help me check outside before we go to bed.” He picked his rifle up and hung it on his shoulder, before heading out the door.

Brain stood up. It was definitely an order and not a request, and although he was under no obligation to follow any orders from John, he was a little worried about the reaction if he didn't. Feet shuffling on the floor, he tailed John, and headed out into the cool dusk air. 

Wrapping his jacket closer around his shoulders, Brian stepped down off the doorstep, and lifted his knees up high to avoid tripping on one of the concrete blocks near the door. John was facing the other way, hands on hips, looking out over the wall. He didn’t seem to react to the other man’s presence, but at this point, was Brian really expecting any sort of reaction?

“What are we doing?” Brian asked after waiting a little too long for John to say something. 

“How are you doing, Brian?”

“Erm. Fine? I suppose.” He walked a little further forward. “When did you become the squad psychiatrist?”

John turned his head to glare at Brian. “I’m not. I was just checking. You seem sheltered enough to have never seen a man die before.”

“I guess. It- it wasn’t great.” Not really in the mood to get into it further, he deflected the conversation with a vague statement. In reality, knowing that the dead man was at least involved with an enemy of the army was enough comfort. That, along with the realisation that, when it came to it, he was afraid to die, meant he was pretty much indifferent to seeing the man die. 

Turning away from him again, John sighed. “I should have been better. I apologise.”

“Whatever for?” 

“I knew it was a bad idea. I should have stood up and gone instead. I will next time. You won’t be in that position again.” 

Brian paused, stepping forward so he was directly next to John. Their shoulders touched lightly as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. “Are you saying you’re going to protect me? Why?”

“If a white rose grows in a thorn bush, do I let it die? Or do I let it grow, the one piece of innocence left in the mayhem? Some things in this world are still pure. I’d rather that purity wasn’t tainted.” 

Thinking for a moment, Brian watched John's face as he continued to stare off into the distance. “I can fight.”   
“I know. A rose still has thorns. I just don’t want you to lose all your petals. It’s a stupid metaphor anyway. Not a lot of people are like you anymore, and this stuff could easily change you.” He sighed.

Brian laughed. “I thought you’d be all for me turning-”

“No.” John interrupted. “You don’t need to turn into me. You’re too special to just be a meaningless soldier. Ability is no substitute for what you’ve got.”   
  


Taking John’s hand, Brian smiled. “Turning into you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying lovelies, and less of a cliffhanger this time which I'm sure will be welcomed by some of you :)


	9. I won't lay no blame

If there was one thing Brian knew he was good at, it was solving puzzles. Having a challenge, and finding the solution. It was something he’d been able to do as a boy, and had only improved upon the more he’d learnt. 

Why was it then, that he seemed to struggle so much with this?

In the light of the torch which lay on the floor beside him, pointing away from his sleeping companions, Brain stared down at the papers Freddie had given him. They didn’t seem to make any sense.

Emptied out from the paper folder that was found amongst the possessions of their enemy was a range of papers. What looked like a recruitment poster for the Armed Rebellion of South England (or ARSE, as Roger had so eloquently pointed out. Judging by the evening conversations, that name was probably going to stick.), had been placed at the front. Behind it was a sheet of paper with letters written in an ink pen, but it must have been in some sort of code as Brian couldn’t make sense of it.

There was nothing else much worth considering. Another map of London not dissimilar to the ones the army gave out, but much more worn down, and some pieces of scrap paper. 

Scribbling on the paper with the stub of a pencil, he tried everything to work the writing out, but it was to no avail. It was possible that it was a system taught to the members of this rebellion, and it would be difficult to work out a pattern from just the short amount of text. Difficult, but not impossible. It should have been possible to find some pattern, especially after three hours of work. 

Letters and numbers swirled on the paper as Brian felt his eyes closing. His handwriting was unintelligible at the best of times, and was only worse late at night when the light was low. Time went on with Brian staring down at the pages, not getting anywhere with it. His head began to lull and it stung to keep his eyes open. 

“Do you ever sleep?”

The shock of a voice in the dark brought his eyes fully open. 

“John- Sorry, did I wake you?”   
John huffed, standing up and stepping around into the torch light. His face was emotionless as ever. “You didn’t. You should have. My watch should have started an hour and a half ago.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to work this out.”

Pausing for a second, John kneeled down to stare at the paper. “This makes no sense. Go to sleep.” 

Brian felt a little offended, and the bluntness was not surprising, but unwelcome. He had spent a lot of time on this. “It makes sense, look-” Speaking at a whisper, Brian attempted to hide the anger in his voice. He pointed to the paper, trying to explain something that wasn’t there. 

“Go to sleep, Brian.”

“I’ll be done in half an hour or so.”   
John laughed. “I just watched you fall asleep sitting up at least three times in the past minute. It’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You know just as well as I that everything could be different tomorrow. Time is important.”

“So is sleep.” He picked up the papers from the floor then stood up fully. “You’re not getting anywhere with this.”   
Brian made a weak attempt to get his work back, arms flailing in the air. They fell to his side heavily as he gave in. 

“I suppose I could sleep on it.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Brian watched him exit the room without another word. He didn’t give an explanation as to where he was going, barely making a sound as he left. Now alone, with only the soft sounds of Freddie and Roger sleeping in the back of the room, Brian piled up the papers, and shuffled over to his sleeping mat. 

Pulling his jacket off, he folded it into a ball and placed it underneath where his head would go as a makeshift pillow. The chill of the air made the hairs on his now bare arms stand on end, so he was grateful to slip into the silken fabric of his sleeping bag. As it wrapped around him he began to warm up and felt ready to sleep. 

Except sleep didn’t come. 

Whether it was his brain fixating on the code, or the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins, something was stopping him from falling asleep.

Even with his eyes tight shut, he was getting nowhere. He was tempted to look at the folder again, but the fear of John finding out he wasn’t asleep was enough to persuade him against it. 

That also begged the question- where was John? He had been gone for a while, and hadn’t given any explanation. Admittedly, this was not unlike him, but it still worried Brian. 

He considered going to look for him, debating it in his mind, but the worries were no more when he heard the door open. 

Eyes open the tiniest amount, Brian watched John wander in with a travel cup of something warm, wisps of steam from it hitting his face. He sat down cross legged by the door. 

It was odd seeing John when he didn’t know he was being watched, seeing him behave so strangely domestic, the slight curl of a smile that appeared on his lips when he took a sip of his drink. 

Somehow, something in Brian calmed. He watched John sit on guard for a few moments longer, before feeling himself slip into unconsciousness. 

\----------

Groggily, Brian took a bite of the cereal bar he had pulled from his bag. His teeth sank into it slowly, ripping away a piece of the sweetened carbohydrate. The sleep had been appreciated, but as per usual he hadn’t quite had enough of it, which left him waking up more tired than he began. 

Roger, who had been on the last watch, was wandering around the kitchen, fully awake. John was also wide awake, as per usual feeling no effect from tiredness. Fortunately, Brian had no reason to feel left out, for Freddie was still cocooned in his sleeping bag, wining quietly at the early morning. 

The events of yesterday were in the past, evidently, as Brian seemed to have been fully forgiven. The two didn’t speak of it, but Freddie was no longer acting passive aggressively, and seemed almost apologetic as they talked about various nonsense. 

When the sun was higher in the sky, and the entirety of the squad was ready to go, they all sat down in the middle of the room which they had inhabited since arriving. Sleep may have helped his mind, but it hadn’t helped with the code. When he placed it in front of him again, there was nothing more he could discern than a bunch of letters. Even his own notes, which had made so much sense last night, meant nothing to him. 

And now his companions were expecting him to explain the next step. Which he couldn’t do. 

He could have tried to bullshit a response, but considering the fact this could put them in considerable danger, he decided to say it straight.

“I don’t know what the fuck this means.”

“Nothing?” Freddie asked when nobody else said anything. “You must know something? We found a whole folder of stuff.”

“Not a fucking thing.” He rifled through the papers. “It’s all blank, except this one, and I can’t make sense of it.”

“Maybe the blank ones aren’t blank? You know like the lemon thing with the paper and the heat and-” 

Brian chuckled, as if he hadn’t thought of that already. “It’s not that. It wouldn’t be reusable anyway.” 

“It was just a suggestion.” Roger frowned. Freddie leaned onto his shoulder comfortingly, and Brian wondered whether he had been a bit harsh dismissing him so quickly. It couldn’t have been too bad though, because if he had Roger would have probably hit him.

“What's that?” John pointed out the map.

“Just a map of London. It doesn’t look any different to our ones. Nothing’s marked on it.” 

Picking it up, John held it up. “Looks a bit worn out?” 

“Maybe they don’t have a lot of resources? I’m not sure. This code is the important bit. It must be something like instructions, directions maybe.” He sighed, defeated. “It would help us, but I can’t work it out.”

“Can we help?” 

“If I can’t work it out, I don’t think anyone else will get it. It took me years of practice to start code breaking properly.” 

“Maybe talk us through it, dear? Help you think through it.”   
“I guess.” Brian picked up the pencil and the code, and was ready to explain it, when Roger tugged the old map from underneath. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, didn’t speak, and stood up, wandering to the boarded up windows. Pulling the wooden covering off with ease, he squinted in the sudden bright light, then held up the map. 

“I think I’ve misjudged you, Roger.” Muttered John as he, along with Brian and Freddie, stared at the light shining through the map.

For the first time in a while, Brian had to admit that Roger had been pretty clever. As the light shone through the paper, certain areas were illuminated. A wide circle of buildings, arranged so that there was a gap in the west side, surrounding a large building that had been highlighted in the middle. 

“And I’m only here to hit things, right?” Roger smirked, evidently aiming his displeasure at Brian. “I’m assuming this helps, but then again, how would I know?”   
Brian sighed. “You’ve made your point, well done.”

“So what's the next step?” Asked Freddie, back to his usual leadership technique of asking the others what they wanted to do.

Nobody said anything for a moment. They all knew that they only had one option, but nobody wanted to be the bringer of bad news.

“We can’t stay here. You’ve killed one of their men, it’s safe to assume that someones looking for us, and this is going to be one of the first places that they look.” Explained Brian. “And like you said, it's weeks before the army even realises something's off. We could try and walk back. Maybe find an old vehicle in the wasteland. Tell them what we know.”

“But we don't know anything other than the fact someone’s here.” 

“No. We don’t. And for all we know something could happen in the time it takes for us to get back. They’re an armed rebellion, we don’t even know what they’re rebelling against.”

“We have to go there.” John said, deadpan. There was an audible sigh from Freddie and Roger, who obviously hadn’t wanted to say it themselves. “Get some intel, get out. Get onto the road outside the wall, and timing should work that we intercept the next drop off.”

“So you’re saying that we take the fight to them?” Roger asked jokingly. 

“That is not what I’m saying. It’s more of a stealth mission, not a fight. We shouldn’t even get into combat, we’ll just sneak around their base.” 

Freddie laughed, looking at Roger with mischievous intent. “So you’re saying John, that we take the fight to ARSE?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His boyfriend laughed back before John could get a word in.

“You know that’s not what I said. And that name isn’t going to stick.” 

“Why not, it is their name, isn’t it?”   
Brian sighed again, and interrupted. “So a serious group of rebels that want us dead, guys. Can we maybe get back on track?” 

They stopped arguing, and looked at Brian. 

“So say we sneak around their base? We have to assume there’s a lot of them. This is a big building, and everything seems too well organised to just be a small group. What if it’s another civilisation, but inside the wall. We can’t just look in from the outside.” 

“I suppose.” John looked deep in thought for a moment. “I may have a plan, but it’s risky.”

“Greater the risk, greater the reward.” Suggested Roger. “What’s the plan?”   
“Okay.” He turned, looking away momentarily as if he were checking no one else was listening. “Do you still have those jackets you found at the camp?”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter nine, feelin' fine


	10. Those endless games

It was a day's walk before they were even close to their destination. They had headed with caution, but it wasn’t needed. They didn’t encounter anything along the way, other than the odd painting to the rebellion. The silence was only made eerier by the sound of wind whistling through the skeletons of skyscrapers above. The sound was much louder as they walked underneath them, and it was a relief to get to a less built up area. 

They camped in an old convenience store, sleeping on the tiled floor, which was a very anxious night for everyone. The threat of being found, along with the worry about their barely formed plan, was on everybody’s minds. 

Brian had been thinking it over in his head the entire journey and the evening after. It could very well work, but it was not without risks. They didn’t know anything about this base, so it was impossible to plan for every eventuality. In fact, much of their plan was based on assumptions. But it was less dangerous than doing nothing at all. And, if Brian had to admit it, John’s plan was pretty cool, and catered towards his personal interests. Well, it would cater to his interests if he could have the role in it that he wanted. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone else wanted to play the same part.

That was the subject of the next morning's argument. 

“Well really, I should be the rebel, because I’m the best at acting and the only one who could talk my way out of a situation.” Freddie spoke at a whisper, conscious not to alert anyone to the situation.

“Nobody’s doubting that Fred. But we also need to assume that we’ll be separated. And we need the strongest duos in case of that.”

“So Freddie and I go as the rebels, Rog and Brian as the prisoners.” John put it bluntly, also keeping as quiet as possible. 

Brian didn’t want to be one of the prisoners. It wasn’t that he’d rather his companions go through it, but he didn’t feel as if he was the best suited to the situations a prisoner would be in. “Won’t I need to be free to move around in order to get the information we need?”  
“I’m just worried about blending in. You can't be recognisable if you’re wearing the jacket or they’ll know you don’t belong. If Freddie takes his eyeliner off and maybe tries to be a little less flamboyant-”

“Impossible dearie, but I can only try.”

“Anyway.” John continued, “We can blend in more. Your hair is pretty recognisable. Maybe if we cut it off.”

“I’m not cutting my hair off.” He replied, but if it came to it, he definitely would. 

Roger held up a hand. “What about me? I’m not recognisable.”

“You’re ever so pretty though.” Freddie ruffled his hair. “And very blond.”

“And more importantly, you can fight without a weapon.”

“Which is why I should get a jacket. I need to keep my gun.” Brian argued. 

John smiled. “I taught you how to fight just as well as I can.” 

“Freddie and I could work well as a team. We did before.”

“That’s debatable.” Muttered Roger.

“We could do it.”

“You’re not going to panic again?”

“No.” And he meant it.

“Okay.” John shrugged, and handed Brian the jacket. “You two can be the rebels.”

Taking the jacket cautiously, Brian watched his face change. It was almost proud, with a slight nod he bowed his head and smiled softly. 

“Thanks.” Muttered Brian, before slipping the rebel uniform on. 

The remaining stock of the convenience store was practically a feast for breakfast. Tins of Coca Cola, a syrupy liquid like petrol, but sweeter than anything Brian had ever tasted before. That, along with some preserved jams and fruit that hadn’t been looted yet, almost felt too good to eat before what should be a simple mission. Get in, get the information, get yourself and the others out. What could go wrong?

A lot, probably. But nothing they couldn’t fix, Brian was sure of it. That didn’t prevent the nervous atmosphere that filled the room when they stashed and equipment they wouldn’t need, and got ready to leave. 

“We should probably- erm- tie you two up or something.” Suggested Brian. It was best to keep up the act as long as possible, just in case they were spotted. “I think there’s some zip ties in one of the bags.”

Grabbing the plastic ties from the top of his bag, Brian walked over to Roger first. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a close hug. The blond rested his head on his shoulder and hugged him back. 

“Stay safe, Bri.”

“Same to you.” Brian let go, and pulled Roger’s hands forward. “Sorry.”

Roger let him tie his hands together. “It’s okay. I kinda like it anyway.” He joked. At least Brian hoped it was a joke.

“You’re disgusting. Both of you.” He added, when Freddie started laughing. “John?”

To Brian’s surprise, John pulled him into a hug. Admittedly an awkward one, having to reach up and wrap his arms around Brian’s shoulders, but it was strangely comforting. Brian leant down and let himself melt into it. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you to look after yourself.” Brian noted, whispering into his ear.

“No. And neither would I say it to you.”

“Thank You, John, for letting me have this” He spoke from his heart as he pulled away, and wrapped the ties around his wrists. 

John smiled momentarily, then his face went back to a frown. “It’s okay. You were right anyway. You are better suited to it.”  
Brain nodded in acknowledgement and agreement. 

“Wait. Brian.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you take my gun, and keep it safe? It’s served me well for years, I don’t particularly want to part with it over this.” 

“Sure.” He took the weapon, and tucked it into his waistband. “I’ll take care of it.”

Not another word was said between them as they waited for Roger and Freddie (who were engaged in a strange bound wrap around embrace). 

“Okay darlings.” Spoke Freddie to the group. “Are we ready?”

\----------

There was one thing left on the map that was a mystery to Brian was the highlighted circle of buildings. The central building made sense, but there was little reason for the buildings so far away to be inhabited. Realistically, that line of buildings was some sort of boundary. But if it was, they would require thousands of people to guard it at all times. And that made no sense- they couldn’t have that many people. There would be more evidence of it. 

It didn’t make any sense. 

Not until they got to it. 

Then Brian realised what they’d done. 

The original three walls had been put up basically over night. This wall- if it could be called a wall- must have taken a lot longer. It was an impressive structure, and well throught together. Built around the houses so it would be impossible to drive through, but reinforced strongly so that you couldn’t just walk through. 

But the most difficult thing to understand about it was how nobody knew it was there. The army had been stationed in London since the day the bombs dropped. At least somebody must know about this new wall. Why hadn’t they been warned about it? Why hadn’t anybody mentioned the possibility of people inside the city?

There wasn’t time to think it over. They had an appearance to keep up. 

Freddie walked up front, leading the pack with the rebel’s rucksack on his shoulders. At the back, Brian pretended to keep the others in check, holding up a gun and trying to look as threatening as he could. It was difficult to hide the shaking in his arms, but he managed it, forcing himself to keep it together and they approached the gap in the new wall. 

The gate was infinitely more guarded than the one they were supposed to be guarded. It looked like the barrier from one of the many army checkpoints had been torn away and moved here, screwed onto the reinforced wall of houses. The red and white wooden gate was behind a pair of rebels, who had seemingly not noticed them yet. Thankfully, they were wearing the same jackets that Brian and Freddie wore- the first of their worries out of the way. 

Freddie didn’t try and hide the fact they were approaching. He made it clear this was no stealth mission, which was for the best. After all, they wanted to blend in. But it wasn’t something Brian would have thought of doing. It wasn’t something Brian would have dared doing if it weren’t for his companions leading the way.

Gently, he prodded Roger’s back with his gun. The safety switch still on, there was no possible danger, but Brian knew he had to play his part in the illusion. Turning his head as they walked, Roger smirked back at him. Having known Roger since childhood, Brian probably knew the best out of anyone that the man couldn’t act for his life. Hopefully he was more convincing from the front. 

Even if he wasn’t, Freddie certainly was. He seemed to mimic the body language of the two guards, swanning over almost casually, but with a sense of polite urgency. Also, knowing John, he was probably just as good at acting as he was at everything else. Maybe they would be alright. 

“Hey! Are you authorised to be out here?”

So they’d been noticed then. Brian waited anxiously for Freddie to answer, not wanting to butt in and ruin it so early on. 

The group stopped in their tracks. 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Asked Freddie confidently, his voice lowered. “We were part of the group at the old army checkpoint.”

One of the guards looked to the other and raised an eyebrow. She placed a hand cautiously on the gun at her side, Brian couldn’t help but anxiously watch. “I thought they all came back three days ago?” 

“Evidently not.” Freddie looked to Brian. “Watch these two, will you?” he spoke loudly, before stepping forward to the two by the gate.

Brian slowly pushed Roger down onto his knees, then pulled John backwards and brought him down to a similar position. He then pretended to watch over them but instead listened in to what Freddie was saying. 

“Look, in between you and me,” Brian could tell that although Freddie had his voice lowered, he was still speaking loud enough so the others could hear him, “we fucked up, got some of our stuff stolen from the old shopping centre. But then we found these two.” He gestured to John and Roger. “Pretty sure they’re from the army as well, but they’re not speaking.”

The guard hesitated again. “I thought we were meant to- you know- deal with any of them?”

“I know, I know.” There was no evidence of fear in his voice, even though there was no way he was as calm as he sounded. “But look at them. They’re just kids. And they might know something.”

“I’m not sure-” The woman who had been speaking began, but was interrupted by her companion. 

“Just let them in. They’ll probably just keep them in the storeroom or somewhere for a few days then get rid of them when they’ve got nothing useful to give. It won’t be us in trouble if they do something wrong.”

Cautiously, Brian brought the other two up to their feet, and motioned for them to move forwards. As he did, Freddie stepped backwards, bowed slightly to the guards, and began to walk through the slowly lifting gate. 

“Hey, you probably don’t know, but they announced another meeting yesterday. Make sure you two go to it, you’ll be in enough trouble already.” One of the guards called out as they walked away. 

Brian turned and smiled back. “Thank you, much appreciated.” 

As they walked up the main road past the gate, Brian was fairly sure they had just dodged a bullet. Freddie was amazing at talking his way out of things, but there was no way things would have gone as well if the two guards hadn’t been so agreeable. If they had been like the man they fought at the shopping centre, it certainly would have been a different story. 

“Bloody hell dearies.” Freddie muttered as they were out of earshot. “My heart is going so fast.”

Brian couldn’t help but agree. The feeling of his heart pounding in his chest was overwhelming, and didn’t disappear even when there was no sign of any enemies. 

There was one road that continued up for a while. The landscape was no different to outside of the wall, the same mix of houses in various states of disrepair. It was perhaps once a residential area, but there were no signs of life in the buildings anymore. If there were people, they were either hiding, or in the large building marked on the map. 

It was a hot afternoon, and the road seemed to stretch on for miles, every curve not showing any sign of the building. In any other situation, Brian would have taken his jacket off, the leather was sticking to his arms uncomfortably, but they couldn’t risk being seen. The idea of two people being locked away and soon executed was worrying enough, it would only be worse if they thought Brian was a prisoner as well. 

That was another pressing issue. The guards they had spoken to hadn’t seemed confident that the two ‘prisoners’ would be anything but killed as soon as they stepped into the building. Just handing them over to that couldn’t be allowed to happen. 

The others must have been thinking that too, as it was the subject of their conversation for most of the walk. 

“We’re going to die if you just hand us over.” Remarked John, head hung low and voice quiet enough so that hopefully, no one else would hear. 

No one else spoke for a moment, the silence was deafening. Brian didn’t want to agree with him, but didn’t know what else to say. He was right, after all. If only they had found more jackets, they would have been able to get in and out as easy as anything. 

Maybe that was an idea? If they could disguise Roger and John once they were in the building they could just walk out. 

“They must store the uniforms somewhere. If we could find two more?”

“That’s not half bad, you know.” Spoke Freddie from the front of the line. “All these people must sleep somewhere, and I haven’t seen any in these houses.”

Roger laughed. Brian kicked his ankle slightly to remind him that wasn’t something he was meant to be doing. “Sorry. I just thought we could have pretty easily taken them from those two guards. They looked pretty weak.” 

“I’m not sure killing two people is the best way to blend in.” Pointed out John, his conversational skills not affected at all by being unable to look his companions in the eye.

“I could have done it stealthily.”

“You are the loudest person I have ever met Rog.” 

Freddie turned around dramatically. “What was that, Deaky?”

“Sorry. Second loudest person I’ve ever met.”

Weirdly, Brian was glad to see John’s snarky humour was still making it into conversation, perhaps more now than it had ever done. It was comforting to laugh, especially when the mood was so anxiety filled. 

He concealed his laughter as best as he could, then brought the conversation back on track. “We couldn’t go back now anyway. I think this is our best bet.”

“They’re not going to just let us all swan in with two people they have made very clear they hate. And we don’t even know where their barracks or whatever are? Is this not making everything more dangerous?”

Freddie did have a point. They didn’t know enough to have a decent plan. But there was more chance of nobody getting hurt with this one, and that had to be the best idea. “We might have to work things out as we go.”

“As long as it doesn't end with a bullet in my head, I’m not bothered what the plan is.” John was strangely nonchalant about the talk of his own death. 

“Or a bullet anywhere, if I’m honest.” Added Roger. “I could maybe take a shot to the arm or something I guess, but-”

Freddie coughed loudly to silence him. “Nobody’s getting shot, darling. And quiet, I think I can see somebody up ahead.” 

\----------

Despite going largely unnoticed by the jacket-wearing rebels, Brian couldn’t help but feel watched. He wondered if they looked as out of place as he felt, hoping that they didn’t because he didn’t feel like he blended in at all. The feeling only got worse as they approached the building which must have been the one marked on the map, and must have at least a hundred of the rebels. 

It was quite the organisation. This wasn’t that surprising- they had built that incredibly impressive wall after all. But Brian hadn’t expected there to be so many people. They worked on makeshift farms in what looked like an old park, keeping areas of the street clean, carrying goods to and fro. But the central hub of everything was a massive concrete building. It was once a power plant of some sort, cooling towers looming over it, and had been kept in impressively good shape. People wandered in and out of it, up the stone steps through the main door. 

And as they approached, squad 39 carefully made their way up the same stone steps. They were definitely noticed at this point, John and Roger in particular getting funny glances that soon turned more physical- shoulder barges and people trying to trip them over. There was one particularly spiteful looking woman who spat in John’s face. He took it without flinching. 

They made it inside without any further incidence. This only led to more problems, as it became evident once they got into the main hallway that they had no idea where to go next. There must have been a good twenty corridors coming off from the one they were on, and, unsurprisingly, no sign posting. 

Freddie walked as if he knew where he was going. He made the same educated guess that Brian would have, following the route that most of the rebels were going. They followed the flow of people into a large room, some sort of armoury by the looks of things, where people were working on various weapons. Some looked makeshift, but some looked more dangerous than anything Brian had seen before. Whatever the rebels were planning, they certainly had the ammunition to do so. 

There was a more pressing issue, however, which Brian realised as he tried not to stare at what was going on. 

His plan wasn’t going to work. They must have walked past a few hundred people, all of whom were aware that there were soldiers here. Even if they did find more jackets and put John and Roger in them, the rebels would know there had been soldiers in their base. And presumably want them dead.

He should have realised it earlier. If only he’d have known how busy it would be. And he had no way of communicating this to Freddie. Wherever they were going, they were heading into danger. 

Or wherever they would be going. They were to go no further, as a voice from behind interrupted them. 

“Hey! You two!”

Brian turned round to see a man in a slightly different jacket, dyed a light blue. Judging by that, and the way that the talking all around stopped when he shouted, he was part of the leadership. 

He paced forward so he was toe-to-toe with Brian, face up close. The distinctive scar on his eyebrow was prominent as he questioned them. “Where are you taking those soldiers?”

“We were going to take them to the storeroom.” He responded with the first lie he could come up with, too terrified to think. 

Thankfully, the background noise increased once again, and Freddie stepped in. “They must have gotten away from the attack on the checkpoint. The guards at the wall told us to keep them in a store room, apparently they have information.” 

The man sniffed and walked over to Roger, the closest of the two. He placed a hand on his cheek and stroked it creepily, as if he were thinking it over. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled, before looking back at Freddie. “You do realise you’re heading the wrong way, correct?”

Freddie laughed, it sounded completely realistic. “You know how it is with these corridors. I’m not completely sure how to get there.”

Brian bit the inside of his mouth as he watched the man think it over, a questioning look upon his face. “You’re funny. I like you. But I’ll take these two from here, let you complete the rest of your duties before the meet.”

“You’re very kind, but we were told to take them ourselves.” Freddie was right to argue, they couldn’t allow their squad to be separated.

“By who? The people at the gate? You don’t have to worry, I outrank them. I’ll make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”

“We don’t really have any duties-”

The man laughed. “I see, you’ve become attached to these rebels. Well you know the rules, I wouldn’t want to discipline you two as well.”

“Of course not, we wouldn’t ever-”

“Okay then, I’ll take it from here.” He gestured to his assistant, who went forwards and grabbed Roger by his tied hands, then he himself did the same to John, yanking him back along the corridor. John fell to his knees, turning his head to Brian and giving him a reassuring nod, before letting himself be pulled back up. 

“Where are you taking us?” Roger shouted as he was dragged away, trying to get at least some information to the others. “You have to tell us where we’re going!” 

Smiling sinisterly, the man’s voice was just within earshot. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” 

Seconds later, they were no longer visible, taken away. Brian’s mouth hung open, but he quickly shut it, remembering that they were being watched by everyone. He turned to Freddie, who looked like he was on the verge of throwing up. 

“Well I need a piss, I don’t know about you?” Brain raised his eyebrows, keeping up the act.

Freddie took a deep breath and composed himself, but his voice was still slightly shaky. “Yeah. Bursting.”

Fortunately the toilet door did have a sign. They were thankfully empty, but Brian and Freddie went into the same cubicle anyway. Seat down, they squished into the small room with Brian in the corner, and Freddie sat down, head in hands. 

“Fuck.” He hissed. “Fuck.”

“This is bad.” Brian pointed out.

Freddie laughed, face still hidden. “You don’t say?” 

“Sorry.”

“No dear, it’s not your fault. If we find out where they are we can break in and get them out. And I don’t think anyone suspects us.”

Brian thought for a moment. “Or, we could continue with what we originally said. Get some information, hope that they don’t keep up the execute on site rule, get them out.” He stopped speaking when he noticed Freddie’s unconfident expression. “They’re not going to do anything to them right away. Otherwise they would have done it just then. And as long as they don’t cause any trouble, they’ll keep them as long as they can get something useful from them.”

“As long as they don’t get into any trouble?” Laughed Freddie. “You expect our John and Roger to sit passively and wait.”

“Good point. But we work quickly, and make this all worth it, hopefully they can hold it together.”

Freddie sighed. “Okay. But you know if anything happens to-”

“I know.”

He paused, then looked up to Brian, a sincere expression upon his face.“Don’t make me regret trusting you, Bri.”

“You won't. We can do this. And I believe we start with this meeting that’s so important for everyone to go to.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot going on in this chapter! Sorry for the wait bois


	11. What's right, my love

The cheer that came from the crowd was deafening. Brian and Freddie were deep within it, joining in with the clapping that was enough to burst ear drums. There must have been a thousand, maybe two, people that had all come together on the steps outside the power station, looking downwards as they waited for something. What exactly it was they were waiting for, Brian had no idea. But the people were certainly excited for it.

There was quite the range of people. Some Brian’s age, some who looked as if they were alive long before the bombs fell. Men and women in about equal amounts, but notably no children. Everyone was about his age or older. It was unnerving, and made little sense. If people were being born here, there would be evidence of children, or at least teenagers, at this meeting. So where had all these people come from?

More shouting stopped his thoughts, it was getting louder and louder until it peaked, and Brian was able to see over the crowd that a group of people had stepped out. One was the blue-jacket wearing man with the scarred eyebrow that had taken John and Roger, he walked in the centre of the group. Surrounding him was five other people dressed the same, and one man walking up front who wore a red jacket. Evidently he was the leader of them, it was easy to tell from the way he held himself and ordered his followers along. 

Brian’s hands faltered, slowing his claps as the sound around him quieted. Next to him, Freddie was standing on his tiptoes to see over the people in front, but had the same look of awe upon his face when this man brought thousands of people to silence.

He held his hands out to the side, the red jacket lit up by the evening sun, and addressed the crowd. “Welcome, everybody! It’s good to have us all together again!”

Call was met by response as cheers echoed out from the crowd. Brian and Freddie joined in quietly. 

“As I’m sure you know,” he continued once it was silent again, “we are reaching the end of this stage of the rebellion.”

Freddie looked to Brian. He shrugged in response, no idea what the man spoke about.

“This is thanks to all of you, and your hard work. It will not be long now until we reap the rewards of our success.”

Another deafening cheer followed. To Brian’s left, two rebels were speaking excitedly to each other, but it was too loud to work out what they were saying. 

“Thank you, thank you everybody. Your supervisors will explain the rest on an individual basis, but it shouldn’t be more than a week before we put the plan into action.”

“A week?” Brian whispered to Freddie, concerned. “We might need to speed up whatever it is we're going to do.”

“We need to find out what the plan is first.” He responded, voice getting quieter and quieter as the cheering subsided. 

Looking to the side, the red jacket man received a nod from the eyebrow-scar man, then faced the crowd. “In less important, but still exciting news, we have some visitors to our little institution. It seems that pathetic excuse for a national army just keeps sending them.”

Brian’s heart sank when he realised who he was talking about. 

“We have two prisoners currently-” 

The man's speech was cut off by a shout of ‘kill them’ somewhere deep within the crowd. Brian looked to Freddie who was  gnawing at his bottom lip, head spinning to the source of the call. 

Laughing, the man continued. “In due time. Since we have them locked away, and we have all been working so hard recently, we’ve decided to make this a public affair,” 

The cheering started again, accompanied this time by more calls for John and Roger’s deaths. These people were sick, Brian couldn’t believe the excitement at the prospect of a public execution. What had they gotten themselves into?

“You’re right.” Whispered Freddie. “We need to speed up.” 

As the cheering turned to chanting and the noise became unbearable, Brian kept facing forwards, but nodded solemnly in agreement. They needed to get the others out as soon as possible, or face disastrous consequences. 

\----------

“I appreciate that it's quiet, Fred, but could we meet somewhere other than this toilet cubicle?” 

They were back in their old position again, except this time reversed. Brian sat on the toilet seat whilst Freddie gently bashed his head against the door in frustration. Fortunately the room seemed barely used- in fact, in the two times they’d been in there, no one else had ever entered. But it was still a toilet, and it wasn’t the most pleasant of meeting places. 

“I don’t know anywhere else.” Muttered Freddie, facing away from Brian still. “We need to do something. Now. What can we do?”

“I’m not sure-”

“Literally anything, Brian. I’m not going to watch my boyfriend executed publicly and not try to stop it. Give me a plan. You’re good at plans.” 

Brian thought for a moment. He was supposed to be good at plans, but thinking back, none of them had worked out. Maybe it wasn’t worth thinking over it too hard. “I guess we could go find where they keep the plans. Find the blue jacket people? We can’t do anything until we work out what’s happening in a week.”

“And as soon as we know, we get them out?”

He nodded. “As soon as we have what we need, we go.”

Surprisingly, finding their way to the plan wasn’t too difficult, especially considering how impossible it was to find the barracks. Freddie charmed one of the rebels, who responded with confusion when asked the location of the eyebrow scar man, and instead gave directions to a ‘control room’, which sounded incredibly promising. 

It was a short walk to get there, Brian led the way with Freddie tailing close behind. The corridors deeper in the building were a lot quieter, with only the occasional rebel who paid them little notice. It was a stark contrast to when they had first entered, and a welcomed one. 

The room they headed to was part of the old power station system and, unlike most areas, was actually labelled as the control room. A white metal door with a tiny glass window still had the paint on it from years ago, peeling off and flaking as Brian placed his hand against it, and waited for Freddie to tell him to go in. 

“Maybe we should knock?” Suggested Freddie as he caught up. “They seem to expect politeness.”

Cautiously, Brian knocked three times on the metal, a clanging sound filling the air. He waited for an answer, but received none. 

The door opened easily with a push, and Brian peered around to confirm there was nobody there. After confirming that, he stepped in. 

“I’ll take a look around, you keep watch outside?” He suggested to Freddie. 

Freddie nodded, and leaned casually against the wall. “Be quick.”

The room was set up with a table in the middle, and a large control board against the far wall. It looked like yet another remnant from before the bombs, but it was still somewhat functional judging by the flashing LEDs. In the centre of the room was a large plastic table, covered in various papers that were lit up by the artificial lighting hanging above. 

Hesitantly, Brian’s fingers danced over the edge of the table, careful not to leave any evidence that he had been there. There was so much to look through, and not enough time to read it all. 

His fingernails scraped the paper as he pushed some of the top ones to the side, scanning for something that would give him more immediate information. It was difficult to find anything of use; most of the smaller papers were timetables, or the occasional blank map. Of course, it was possible that the important stuff was written in code, but there was not enough time to work anything out, and Brian didn’t want to risk taking anything from the room. 

But he didn’t want to risk getting nothing from this mission. 

After finding nothing on the table, he carefully returned everything to how it was, and started searching the rest of the room. Drawers from a filing cabinet shut as quickly as they were opened, nothing useful to be found. 

He cursed under his breath, tiptoeing to the control board and scanning for something. Anything. It had to mean something, because it was doing something. The power station had to still be in use. And Brian had the sickening feeling that it was for something more than just electricity. 

That feeling was soon to become a fact. 

Being at the far side of the room revealed an angle he was yet to see. The boards that made up one of the sidewalls were on a hinge. They pulled forwards easily, revealing what looked like blue prints, taped to the brick wall. Brian smiled, happy to have finally found something of use. The smile was short lived, however, as he soon realised the consequences of what they were building. 

It was unmistakably a missile silo. Even Freddie or Roger would have been able to identify it. They were building bombs. Next to the blueprints was a smaller piece of paper, also taped up, with a map of south England upon it. Different civilisations were marked upon the map with numbers, starting at one with the larger more militant areas and army bases, and going all the way down to seventeen in some of the more peaceful areas. Presumably these were the targets of the bombs. And judging by the rally they had been forced to attend, they would be hitting within the next week. 

Doing the maths in his head, Brian began to panic. They couldn’t get back to the army base in that time. Not on foot. Trying to find a vehicle would be too much of a risk, but it could be the only way. It was a chance they would have to take if they were to save all these lives. Especially when he took another look at the map, and noted that his home was marked at number 14. 

There was no time to waste. Brian closed the boards and hid the maps away again, and began to slowly skirt his way towards the door. 

His hand hovered on the door handle, and he was just reaching to pull the door open when he felt force against his hand. 

Breath catching in his chest, Brian stepped back suddenly, just as the door swung open, barely missing him. 

Looking up at him with a face of confusion was the eyebrow-scar commander from before. They stood staring at each other for a good five seconds, neither with anything to say. Brian’s heart pounded in his chest. This could be it, there was no escaping the fact he was spying on the rebellion when he had been caught in its very heart. 

And where was Freddie? He was meant to be keeping watch, something must have happened to him.

Brian’s mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. 

“What are you doing in here?”

This was an issue. Brain was not good at bluffing. That was Freddie’s thing. That was why Freddie was here. Except Freddie had disappeared. He had to make something up. 

“My schedule- it said I was meant to clean in here.”

The man’s non-scared eyebrow raised. “That can’t be right. Weren't you escorting those prisoners earlier today? You shouldn’t be crossing departments.”

Brian shrugged. “I’m just following what I’m told to do.”

Humming in confusion, he stepped around Brian and started going through the papers on the table. “That can’t be right. What’s your name again? I’ll sort your schedule out for you.”

“It’s -erm- Brian.” He said, then instantly regretted giving out his name. “Brian Manley?”

“Thanks Brian. I’ll fix that. You can go now.”

Brian began to step out the door. “Thank you. What should I do now?”   
“Get an early night or something. Big few days coming.” 

Bowing slightly, Brian slowly shut the door behind himself, then ran at full speed down the corridor, trying to find somewhere safe. 

There wasn’t anywhere to go. Without thinking, he found himself in some sort of cleaning cupboard, knees up against his chest as he perched on the floor inbetween a mop bucket and a broom. Head falling between his legs, he swore to himself quietly, feet cluttering far too loudly against a bucket at the other side of the tiny room. 

Even if he could find Freddie and get the others out, he was still fucked. He’d given a name that wouldn’t even be on any list, as soon as that commander found that out, he would surely be hunted. And he had to assume the worst with Freddie, there was no way he would leave unless something was wrong. 

It took a while to compose himself, but it was far quicker than it was at the shopping centre, and Brian found himself staring at the blank wall with resolve. Time was of the essence. And it was the moment to get out of this place.

Brushing the dust from his trousers, he stood up and exited the cupboard with as much courage as he could muster. 

He headed in the only direction he could think of. The same way that the eyebrow-scar commander had taken John and Roger only hours earlier, even though it felt like days had passed since they had been separated.

No one gave him a second look as he walked through the corridors. Even as he got to the highly populated areas, he kept his head held high, and walked through without collision. People must have been heading to bed, or at least an evening meal, because the few windows in the building were no longer letting any light through. 

Speaking of an evening meal, Brian thought that the kitchen would be a good place to start, it would make sense that store rooms would be near there. He followed the general flow of people, and after a little while wandering he managed to find the dining room. 

There were a few people there, finishing off eating as he had predicted. He was well aware that he hadn’t eaten since the morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to even feel hungry. He was too anxious for that. 

Following behind a small group of people he kept at a short distance and headed into a quieter corridor round the back of the dining room. No one gave him a second look as he slowly took himself away, leaning back in a doorway and waiting until the corridor was clear. 

Air caught in his chest as he stood there, breathing heavily, until there was no longer any other sound. 

With stealth as the aim, he continued down the corridor until he reached a red door with a small window in its centre. Peering through it gave a view of an outside yard and the abandoned buildings beyond it. Evidently not the right way to find the rest of his squad. 

Spinning on his heels, he turned back the other way in the corridor, slinking back along it, checking every door along the way to see if they were locked. Not one moved an inch until he got to the other end of the hallway, a metal door with well kept paintwork. 

It pushed open slowly, heavy against his palms. He slunk in through the tiny gap he had made, into a room filled with bags of rice, beans, and other various foodstuffs that were stored in boxes and hessian bags. It was disorganised in its contents, but everything was stacked neatly. 

In the distance he could hear voices. Not commanding in any way, it sounded like friendly chatting, there was laughter amongst words that he couldn’t make out. 

Stepping over a cardboard box, Brian made his way further into the room, over to where he could hear the voices. A metal grate with tiny circular holes in it separated them from him. His fingernails made the slightest clang against the material as he leaned forwards and placed one eye to a hole, peering into what was obviously the kitchen. 

No food was being cooked, but there was still a lingering smell, like something had been burnt a long time ago. Three people sat around on the furthest counter, laughing with each other, barely silhouettes in the artificial lighting. 

Brian pulled back quietly. He was definitely in the right place, the store room had to be somewhere around this area. Tiptoeing through the back of the room, he exited through a door in the far side, lowering it down so it didn’t slam as it shut. 

Another corridor. Smaller, but no less disheartening. And every door along it was bolted shut, either from the inside or with padlocks. 

He was about to turn and head back when he heard a familiar voice, that made him jump out of fear and excitement at the same time. 

“Brian?”

“John?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys I completely forgot to update this in September, so here's an early October update


	12. On your own

John’s voice came from below the door, muffled slightly but still clear. It was loud in the silence of the corridor, drawing Brian straight to it. 

“Are you alone?” 

Pressing his ear against the door, Brian replied. “Yes- John, are you okay?”

There was the sound of someone getting up on the other side of the door. “We’re all fine. Don’t worry.”

“We?”

“You alright Brian?”

Smiling at the sound of the voice, Brian laughed. “Rog? You would not believe how bloody difficult it was to find you.” 

“You're here now, it’s okay.” John’s voice was soft, it felt close to Brian’s ear. “Did a better job than Freddie anyway.” 

“I heard that darling.” Freddie sounded further away than the other two. Although he was happy to hear his voice, and that he wasn’t dead, Brian was still confused as to how he was locked away with the other two. That had definitely not been a part of the plan.

Keeping his voice down, and trying not to sound angry yet, just in case there was a logical explanation, although he highly doubted it. “What happened?”

“I was thinking about saving time. When you were in the room that eyebrow guy caught me at the end of the corridor and told me where these two were. I thought I could get them out and then we’d have more time to get home.”

“For fucks sake. It didn’t work though, did it?”

Freddie sounded far too calm with the situation. “There’s a guard patrol through here.”

“We should go then.” 

“Don’t worry, there’s at least another ten minutes until they’re through again.” Spoke John. “Did you get what we needed? What do you know?”

Brian paused. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the reality of what he had found sunk in again. 

“It's- erm- I think they want to start another war. Or at least take over. There’s blueprints for a missile silo. And a map. Targets I think.”

There was silence from behind the door. 

“And this is meant to happen next week?” Asked Roger. “How can we stop it?” 

“Presumably. And I don’t know. We need to get back. Tell someone who can do something about this. I think it’s too big for us.”

There was another pause. John broke the silence this time. “You’re right. There’s nothing else we can do here. Although it is a little odd-”

“What?” 

“Never mind. We need to get back.” There was a tapping sound as he stepped back from the door. “Can you get this door open?”

Brian pulled his gun from the holster, flicked the safety switch, and aimed it towards the padlock. He took a breath in and got ready to fire before he was interrupted. 

“Wait, Brian.” John spoke urgently.

He pulled back. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, but I was thinking. We need those blueprints. And the map. And we need to know how we’re getting out of here. If you could find out if there’s a car or something we could steal.”

Knowing what John was getting at, he still questioned it all the same.“So I need to go back?”

“Sorry dear. Deaky’s right.” Freddie agreed, sounding a little disheartened. “They need proof of this. And they’ll need to evacuate the targets on that map.” 

“Okay.” 

Freddie had a point. But going back to that control room wouldn’t be easy. If that commander had looked up his name and not found it, they would be looking for his face. And if Brian got caught as well, there would be no hope. 

The risk would be worth it, especially if he could find them a faster way home. If he couldn’t, it would be a push to get the warning back in time. 

“I’ll go.”

“Thank you Brian.” Freddie called.

There was a slight pause before John spoke. “Hey, Brian.” His voice sounded closer. Brain leaned forwards so his forehead pressed against the door. Like he could touch him, his hand touched the metal in front of him. 

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

John sounded worried. It was nice to hear him show emotions. And it made Brian smile to hear how much he still cared, even when he was the one who was set to be executed. It felt like he hadn’t seen him in so long, and Brian had to remind himself that it had only been a few hours.

It hurt to be on his own, on the other side of the door. It hurt to be away from John. 

It hurt to have to walk away after he had found them. They were so close to escaping, and he had to go back into the lion's den. At least he knew the way to go this time. 

Quietly he headed back through the corridors, certain of the path to take. It was a quicker walk than before, but this time he couldn’t help but think all eyes were on him. Like he was being watched, as if everyone somehow knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. He knew he was being stupid, there was no way that news could spread that fast, even if the commander had found out the name was fake- and that may have not happened yet anyway. Either way, as illogical as it was, Brian felt uneasy. 

The door to the control room was unlocked when he got back to it. He pushed it open slightly to check the room was empty, before stepping in and pulling it shut behind him. With much less care, he began to grab anything that looked important, and stuffing it into his small rucksack. Pulling back the boards as before, he pulled the map and set of blueprints off the wall, the corners of the paper ripping as he did. They rolled up into a scroll, and slid in the side of the bag neatly. 

That was the easy part done. Now to find themselves a way out. 

Having found nothing when looking before, Brian went this time to the control panel in the far side of the room. Different lights were flashing now. That was worrying, but not the problem at hand. Careful not to press any buttons and make anything worse, he picked up a small plastic key from the top of the panel. Unsure what it was, but sure that it was important, he looped the string around his neck and tucked it under his shirt. 

There was nothing about any vehicles however. Maybe it wasn’t in this room. Or worse, there weren't any cars to begin with. 

The room looked ransacked, as if fifty people had been through and tore it apart; even though Brian had only been in there for a few minutes. He wasn’t going to find anything else. 

Still trying to close his bag, Brian began to leave the room, kicking open the door with his knee. As he finished fastening the zip with his teeth, he lifted his head up.

His heart stopped as he felt cold metal in the centre of his forehead. 

Not moving any further, his eyes lifted to see the barrel of a gun, pressed against his head, and staring down at him was the eyebrow-scar commander, anger upon his face.

“Hello, Brian.” He smirked. “Although, I’m not really sure that is your name.”

Brian’s breath hitched, the bag falling from his mouth. He desperately looked for another option, but upon finding nothing his eyes widened and he looked up towards his capteur, dead in the eye. 

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back on her shit with the cliffhangers :) apologies for the short chapter and happy November everyone


	13. I've made my break

“Very brave of you to come back here. Stupid, some would say.” 

Brian bared his teeth. “What the fuck do you want? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The commander laughed sinisterly. “I don’t want any more lies. Army as well, I presume? Along with all your little friends?”

Not answering, Brian continued to stare up at his face. His knees were starting to hurt from the position but he couldn’t risk moving. Not when the gun was right there. 

“Are there more of you?” The man asked again. Aft er receiving no answer, he smiled again, eyes scanning Brian’s face. “No. I don’t think there are. I've caught the last one.”

“I’m not from the army.” 

“Your friend- the one with the dark hair and eyeliner? He was much better at lying than you are. I almost believed him. Almost. I’m sure he would have been able to free all four of you if he was in your position. You, however, my curly haired friend-” He ruffled Brian’s hair with his free hand, “I don’t think you will save any of them.”

Despite the nature of this guy’s speech, Brian was glad it kept going on. The longer he stayed in this corridor, the longer he had to get away. And he needed to get away, otherwise this was all over. Not just for him, but for thousands of people. 

“I suppose you think you’ve got it all worked out? Our little plan? What are you going to do? Hurry back home to that pathetic place you call an army base?” He laughed. “Do you think the army doesn’t know? About this? About all the people here? They sent you to die, Brian.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“I can’t count the number of soldiers that the army has sent here. Cannon fodder. All of you. And that’s not to say some haven’t escaped. The army knows about the rebellion and they continue to do nothing about it. That’s why we need it. Stop you mindless thugs from controlling the people and unite the country. As it was. As it should be.”

Anger boiled in Brian’s stomach. “You’re going to kill people. Lots of people.” 

“Casualties are inevitable on both sides.”

Once again, Brian replied only with a glare. 

“Come along then, get up.” He gestured with the gun. “It’s getting late and I can’t be here forever.”

Slowly, Brian began to rise up, keeping his eyes locked with the commander's face. Gently, he let his bag fall into his left hand whilst his right hand sank down to the holster on his hip. Taking his gun into his hand, he quickly ducked and fired simultaneously, shutting his eyes as he pulled the trigger. 

The shot rang off into the hallway, loud and obnoxious followed by the equally loud expletive from the commander. Brian had just enough time to note that he had hit the man in his thigh before another gunshot was heard, this time at him. 

He ducked just in time, the bullet skimming his hair and riccocheting off the wall. Without a sound, he stood up so he was taller than the commander and aimed the pistol at his head. 

There was a faint clatter as the man’s gun fell to the ground, but Brian wasn’t listening. 

“What was it you said about casualties on both sides?” 

The man kept a stoic expression on his face. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong.”

This time, he didn’t have to shut his eyes when he pulled the trigger. 

There was a second of clarity when the shot went off. A moment of freedom, like Brian had achieved something. That feeling was soon replaced by dread. 

He just killed a man. 

This wasn't him. 

He wasn't a killer, he was a scientist. 

The sudden power he had gained, the rush of adrenaline from pulling the trigger disappeared like a brick in the ocean. 

The body hadn’t even hit the floor before he started running. They were coming for him. He had to get out. 

Breath faster than it had ever been, and heart pounding like a drum, his feet moved faster than his brain. But his hands didn't shake. He didn't even fear.

He only felt wrong. It felt wrong.

Was this the contamination of his purity that John was talking about?

He raced down the corridors, not even caring what anyone thought. Not caring if anyone knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. Speed was the only thing that mattered. 

Not even thinking of the directions, he let his brain go on autopilot. His mind was stuck outside of his body. Replaying that moment. Over and over again.

But then he remembered. This was kill or be killed. He was moments away from being that dead body on the floor, and then the others would have met the same fate the next day.

He did it for his friends. For his country. For John. 

He wasn't a killer, he was fighting for his life. It was self defence. It wasn't his fault. 

Breath returned to him gently, and he fell back into the real world. He had come a long way in the midst of panic, and was once again near to the kitchen supply door. 

He didn't need to think about what he'd done. He needed to rescue his friends. 

Practically kicking down doors as he went, Brian moved uncharacteristically round the back of the kitchen, immediately grabbing his gun when he got to the door and shot the lock off. 

John, Freddie and Roger sat on the floor on the other side of the door, staring with mouths agape. 

“Come on.” Brian shouted when nobody made a move, the words coming out as if he hadn't spoken in years. “We need to go.”

There was a pause. 

“Well that was fucking cool.” Roger stated, the first to stand up. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

Looking him up and down, Freddie’s expression was entirely different to Rogers. “Dearie, are you hurt?” 

“What?” Brian looked down at his shirt, to see it splattered with red. He felt a little sick. “Oh. No. It’s not mine. We need to go.” 

John stepped up, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly. 

Brian nodded in response, although he was still a bit shaky. 

“I don’t know what you did, Bri, but I’m happy to see you in one piece. Are people coming?”

“Yeah.” 

John nodded. 

Hastily, Brian unstrapped John’s rifle from the side of the backpack, and handed it to him. There was no physical conversation, but as their hands touched it felt as if there was understanding between them. 

Brian smiled. It was good to be together again. 

“Come on lovebirds!” Freddie laughed as he pushed past. “Brian, what’s the quickest way out?”

“Through the kitchens. Follow me.” 

John pressed his ear to the door before they moved in. He listened for a moment, before looking back at the group. “I can hear people on the other side. They must have heard you shooting the lock off.”

“I didn’t see any guards near here.” Brian noted, although he hadn’t really been concentrating. 

“Maybe it’s just kitchen staff?” 

“So non-lethal?” Asked Roger. 

Freddie nodded. “If we can. And John dear-” He looked to John, “I know you just got your gun back, but I think we should aim to be quiet.”

John looked disgruntled, but nodded anyway. Standing on the left side of the door, John waited for Roger to back him up on the right. Freddie and Brian waited back a little bit, neither being the most competent fighters in the group. It was perfectly formed, just like they'd been trained. Finally, they were doing something by the book. 

The room was silent as they cracked the door open, but that didn't last long. As the two skirted the edges of the room, and John signalled for Brian and Freddie to follow, there was a clatter as Roger was pushed into a cupboard of utensils, only a muffled shout as he disappeared from view. 

Brian barely had time to react before John was jumped as well, a flash of white as a man in a chef's uniform leaped out from behind a corner, gripping him by the shoulders. He got one last brief look at the fight, John didn't look at all phased as he twisted himself out of the headlock and started to fight back. Considering everything he had been told before, Brian hesitated before going to help. There had to be more people, and he didn't want to be surprised. 

Scouting out the room some more, Brian silently followed the path through, keeping an eye out for any more people. The scuffling seemed to slow down, Roger's head popping up again with a smile, and a whisper that the attacker had been restrained. 

Freddie nodded from the other side of the room, nearing the door. "Are we clear?"

Brian stopped for a moment, something catching in the corner of his eye. "Wait." He whispered, creeping over to one of the sink cupboards with the door open. Picking up a kitchen knife from the counter, he edged round, holding it out in front of him. 

Hidden behind the door, crouched on the tiled floor, was a man who couldn't be more than eighteen, holding a knife out in the same manner as Brian, except with violent vibrations originating from his shoulders. 

The blade clattered to the floor as soon as the boy saw Brian. 

"Please." He was almost weeping. "I'm not a fighter."

Never before had Brian seen someone so scared of him. The boy didn't look like a fighter, but Brian wasn't a fighter either. He wasn't going to hurt someone so defenceless. 

Except he probably looked like he would. The knife out in front of him wasn't the scary thing, it was the speckles of blood, still wet, that stained his hands. Briefly he looked down to his jacket and shirt, to see they were even worse off. Coated in someone else's blood. 

Bringing himself back down to earth, Brian shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

The boy didn't reply, too scared to speak. 

Knowing that he couldn't just leave him running free, Brian quickly looked for something to tie him up with, settling for one of the zip ties that was keeping a bag of rice closed. The rice cascaded onto the floor as he ripped it off, loosening it with the tip of the knife, then looping it round the boys wrists and through the cupboard handle. 

"You should leave this place." He muttered, as he began to stand up. "It's not safe for you here." 

Nodding, the boy cowered in place, allowing Brian to step away and continue searching the room. 

It didn't take long to get all the way through. Thankfully, it hadn't been too difficult to overpower the kitchen staff, who didn't seem to be trained in combat, and didn't have any weapons. Brian headed over from his corner of the room, towards the door where Freddie stood, guarding it. 

"Is there many more rooms like this?" He asked as he waited for everyone to join him. "How easy is this door to find."

"It's just around the corner." Explained Brian, although his eyes were set on John who was walking along the other side of the room. He looked anxious, too anxious for John to look unless he knew something was wrong. Even worse, he had his rifle back off his shoulder and into his hand. 

Still, despite this, he kept moving towards Freddie, eyes fixed on the door. From the angle he was at, Brian couldn't see what he was fixated on. Roger had seemingly seen something as well, eyebrows scrunching together as he got ready to fight yet again. Whatever- or more likely whoever- they had seen, they were trying not to alert them. 

Freddie was none the wiser, not even looking worried, but he must have seen something in everybody else's faces, because his smile faded quickly. 

"What is it?" He asked quietly, not turning around.

That had to have given the game away. Despite not speaking, Brian knew what John's plan was. They couldn't let someone hide away after having seen them- they would instantly report to someone more dangerous. But he wasn't about to point out their location until they were close enough for a quiet fight. 

In John's mind, the idea of a quiet fight was out the window. Brian winced at the sound of his rifle being loaded, the classic click as the round fell into position. He could only watch as everything went in slow motion. John lifted the rifle up and aimed it, but not fast enough. 

From somewhere outside of Brian's vision, a young woman jumped out, pulling a knife to Freddie's throat before he even had a chance to react. 

Freddie yelped, wriggling to try and get free, but not managing to do anything against her strength. She was unlike the rest of the kitchen staff, dressed differently and her face was heavily scarred. 

At a loss of what to do, Brian stopped in his tracks. Freddie was being held between her and John, and the two of them were at a standstill. John wouldn't risk the shot unless he knew it was clear, and she wasn't going to rid herself of the hostage unless she knew it was safe. At least Brian hoped she wouldn't, because Freddie was certainly a difficult hostage, kicking backwards with all his force in an attempt to get away from the blade. 

Desperately, Brian tried to come up with a plan on the fly. He could probably get a shot into her, but it wouldn't be without risk. And it wouldn't be without sound. 

"Hey." Freddie muttered, gulping as the knife pressed against his skin leaving a thin red line. "I don't know you dear, but I assure you, this isn't something you want to do. Just let me go, and we won't hurt you."

She didn't reply to him. Her eyes were locked on John. "Surrender. Or I slit his throat."

"Maybe we could come to an agreement-" The knife pressed a little deeper into his neck, and Freddie's talking was cut off with a whine. 

John continued to stare her down. Brian's heart was thumping, going through all the options. His eyes went from John, to the woman, to Freddie.

It was only then he realised Roger had disappeared. 

Suddenly, Brian's biggest concern was that Roger was about to do something stupid that would get them all killed. He wasn't exactly known for his diplomacy. 

At least he was doing something. This was getting nowhere but deeper into Freddie's neck.

"John. Put the gun down." Brian called, slowly raising his hands.

"What?" 

Brian looked to Freddie, who despite the sweat pooling on his forehead and the trickle of blood down his throat, gave a knowing smile. He knew something they didn't, but Brian was on the right tracks. 

"Just do it." He called.

Slowly, John lowered his weapon to the ground, eyes still locked forward. He raised up, then held his arms above his head. 

"Okay." Brian spoke as calmly as he could. "Now let Freddie go, and you can take us back to the store room." 

Hesitantly, she pulled the knife back and grabbed Freddie's hands from behind. Freddie let out a loud sigh as the pressure was removed from his throat, taking in as many deep breaths as he could. 

"Thank you, dear." He smiled in faux appreciation. 

She didn't reply, gave only a slight grunt as she pulled his wrists tight.

Muscles beginning to ache from holding the surrender, Brian desperately waited for something to happen. What had first been concern for Roger's plan soon became hope that he even had a plan at all. 

He needn't have worried. The woman looked between John and Brian, and her triumphant aura soon became one of confusion.

"Wait-" She paused. You could practically see the cogs turning in her head. "Weren't there four of you before?" 

As the penny dropped, Freddie took his chances and ducked, just in time before Roger threw himself across the room, landing a flying kick to the woman's head and sending all three of them tumbling to the ground. 

Brian scrambled over with John in pursuit, ready to assist, but it wasn't required. Between the two of them, Roger and Freddie managed to wrestle her down to the ground and pin her down, subduing her. 

It was a quick job to tie her up, and get her out of the way. As Roger fussed over Freddie for once, Brian reached into one of the deep freezers and found an ice pack, sliding it over to her. 

"For your head." He explained, walking away towards the others. 

"Wait." The woman called. Brian's head span back around quickly. "Why do you care? Why don't you let me die?"

"I don't kill people."

She looked confused. "Out of all four of you, I'd assume you would be the most brutal."

"There isn't usually blood on my hands."

"It's not just the blood on you that scares me." 

Brian was about to question it, confused himself and almost angry that she would think this. He wasn't a killer. What he did was self defence. He was stopped, however, by a hand on his shoulder. He looked round to see John, face soft. 

"Come on Brian. She's only trying to manipulate you. We need to go."

Once again, John was right. She was trying to slow them down, he had been stupid to even engage her.

John went ahead to scout the next corridor whilst Brian guarded the open door. He stood, leaning on the door frame and watching his other two team mates. Roger was delicately cleaning the gash across Freddie's throat with a clean dish rag. Fortunately the wound wasn't too deep, and Freddie must have been too focused on the task at hand to make a fuss (Brian had seen him weep over a splinter before). With the bleeding stemmed and only a light red line remaining, Roger threw the rag away behind him, and made ready to go, only to receive a demanding nudge from Freddie.

"Excuse me, Dr Taylor. I think you forgot the most important part of the cure."

Roger sighed, and planted a kiss on his forehead. "There. Is that better?" He sounded cross, but Brian knew Roger, and knew he didn't mind putting up with Freddie's antics. 

"All healed now." He smiled. "Say, Doctor, you wouldn't know how to fix a broken heart?"

Roger laughed, putting on an awful impression of a suave doctor. "I know a few ways."

"How about a broken di-"

"Corridor's clear!" John shouted from afar, thankfully stopping the conversation before Brian had to. "And can I remind you all that we are not out of danger yet."

Cackling like a pair of hyenas, Roger helped Freddie off of the counter he sat upon, and they both put their game faces on. As stupid as they were being given the current situation, Brian was happy to hear it again. He also couldn't help but feel sorry for John, who must have been putting up with their nonsense for hours before they were rescued. 

Laughing about it to himself, Brian was the last one to leave the room. He took one last look behind him, and his smile faltered. The woman was still glaring at him, and although she didn't speak a word, Brian couldn't help but think about what she had said. 

He turned away and followed the others, trying to block it from his mind. They needed to leave. 

The door leading out could be bolted from the outside. Brian took one last look inside, before taking a deep breath in, and running into the darkness. 

\----------

Alarms sounded in the distance, and Brian felt as if he had been running for years, pure adrenaline keeping him going at full speed. Keeping his pace at the centre of the pack, he followed close behind John, who was leading them through buildings and alleyways to get away from the power station. 

It was getting difficult to keep up. As he began to calm down, Brian became distinctly aware of the fact he hadn't eaten in hours, and that he hadn't slept all night, with morning fast approaching. The wall was too far away, even with the vast improvements to his stamina. They would need to stop for the night, or they wouldn't be able to fight through the wall. Plus, that would be where any parties hunting them would assume they would go. It was safer to wait it out until morning. 

"John." He called, keeping his voice low. "Is there a building we can hide for the night?"

Stopping in his tracks, John looked to Brian and nodded, then skid around a corner to the left. "I think I saw a good place on the map."

The streets got tighter, and the alarm sound was hardly audible. It looked like an older area of London, and was less destroyed than any districts they'd seen earlier. The group weaved through, and John took them to a small unassuming building that looked a little different to the houses around it. 

"What is this place?" Brian asked, as he waited for John and Roger to break through the barricaded doors. 

John bowed his head, pulling the door forward so Brian could enter. "Take a look." 

Ducking underneath the swinging sign, Brian stepped into the building, and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Expecting some kind of food shop or weapons store, he was surprised to find himself looking over shelves and shelves of books. 

He almost cried when he realised where he was. "John- this is-"

"It looked a decent place to stay. And I remember you saying how you were interested in history."

"Thank you." Brian stumbled through the dark, and pulled John into a hug. He felt the other man's arms wrap around his back too. 

They stayed in the embrace for a moment longer, before Brian couldn't hold on any longer, and ran off to explore the library. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of badass-ery in this chapter  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	14. I'm a happy man

Never before had Brian seen so many books. He felt as if he had been transported back into a young child, so excited that any tiredness instantly faded. It was as if he forgot where he was, who they were running from, the danger they were in. 

It felt so peaceful, his hands running over the spines of the books, nails catching on worn leather and plastic coverings, too many titles to read in one sitting. 

Too much to read in the time they had, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t come back when this was all over. If this was all over- Brian couldn’t prove anything that the eyebrow-scar man had said (and honestly, was trying to block the moment from his mind), but if he was right, getting home wouldn’t solve everything. And even then, there was no guarantee that they could get back in time. 

Worry overtaking him, Brian realised he had stopped in his tracks, staring down at the stains on the carpet floor. 

“What’s bothering you?” 

John’s hand gripped his shoulder, almost too tightly.

Brian turned to look at him. “I’m just thinking. Worrying- I guess.”

“Whatever it is, we can fix it tomorrow.”

Sighing, Brian nodded. “I know. Thank you.”

“There’s some beanbags in the children’s section. Come sit with me?” He smiled. 

After taking some time to find the perfect book, and settling on a piece of non-fiction about UK wildlife, Brian navigated through the library to find John. The childrens section was in a seperate room off the far side of the building. Even in the low light, the bright colours of the wall were overwhelming. Hand painted, by the looks of it. Animals and rainbows and trees. It was pretty well preserved as well. It must have been beautiful before the bombs fell. 

John was sitting on one of two beanbags, flicking through a book quietly. He didn’t look up as Brian took a seat opposite him. 

“There’s only one torch in the pack.” He pointed to the torch, which was leaned against a bottle of water. “I found the bottle in the bathroom. It’s good, right?”   
Brian smiled at his genuine excitement at building a lamp. “It’s brilliant. Where are the other two?”

“I didn’t ask. Fred said they would join us in a bit.”

“I suppose you’re glad for the quiet.” Brian chuckled. “They’re noisy buggers, aren’t they?”

Smiling, John closed the book he was reading and set it on the ground next to him. “I don’t know. I’ve grown pretty fond of the chaos.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

He grinned. “I can have fun as well, you know. Anyway, what’s bothering you? Other than the group of rebels chasing after us. And the fact they want to destroy life as we know it.”

“Yeah, that’s a big part of it. But, I killed a man, John.”

“I figured. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, there weren't any other options. I think I’ll just leave it to worry over in the future. No- it was what he said before.”

He looked to John, who was staring inquisitively, waiting for the story to continue. 

“He said that the army knew what they were sending us to. They knew the rebel group were here.”

John hummed. “I did have my suspicions.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Whatever we can do. I’d say the best bet is to look for a car on the other side of the wall. Warn as many people as we can.” His eyes darted from side to side as he thought. “Let’s focus on getting out of here.”

Yet again, listening to John talk was incredibly calming. Brian nodded gently, catching John’s gaze momentarily, smiled, and picked up his book. His body melted back into his seat, comfortable at last, with his shoulders finally releasing down his back. Looking up briefly, he saw John had returned to flicking through pages, by the looks of things just staring at the illustrations. Brian took that as a sign to settle down, and stop talking, so peeled open the first page of the book.

The paper was delicate between his fingers, the words still dark against parchment browned with age. There was blood underneath his fingernails, having had no proper time or facilities to clean himself off, but he did his best to ignore it, keeping his focus entirely on the text. 

The first chapter focused on conservation, ironic really that people used to spend so much time caring for the animals when they were the ones that made them endangered in the first place, and were the ones that would inevitably lead to their extinction. Maybe they should have focused more on ensuring their own survival. 

Not many of the animals mentioned would be around anymore. The climate had changed significantly, as had the environment. There was something though; a few pages in was a drawing of a black and white animal- dog like and round. Brian was certain it had been the creature he had seen when getting the bus to London. It was hope at least that something had survived in this world.

He was a few pages into chapter two when Freddie and Roger returned. Their arrival was signalled to by the groan of John, who had otherwise been quiet.

“Put a shirt on, please.”

Brian turned his head to see the two of them, both red faced and tired looking. He didn’t want to think about what they’d been doing. Thankfully, Roger pulled his shirt (which was tied around his waist) over his head, and sat down in the circle along with Freddie. 

Folding the inside cover around to keep his page, Brian placed his book on the floor, and turned to face the group. Freddie began to empty what was still in their one remaining backpack, spreading out the contents quietly. The other three watched like hawks as he divided the remaining rations into four, and handed them out.

“Sorry darlings. We’ll have to find more on the other side of the wall.” 

Brian picked his share up gratefully, even though he was far past the point of hunger, and devoured half of a soggy digestive biscuit. He was much slower with the rest of his food- a cereal bar and a handful of dried fruit, but it still left him wholly unsatisfied. 

Predictably finishing his food before the rest of them, Roger waited for Brian to finish, then swung his legs round onto his lap so he was almost a hammock between Brian and Freddie. 

“Get your disgusting feet off of me.” Brian groaned, trying to push the pink converse off but failing spectacularly. In the corner of his eye he could see John, who was putting little effort into concealing a laugh. “What are you laughing at Deaky? You can’t smell them! I’ve seen him wear these shoes for the last six years!”

“Shh.” Roger laughed. “Keep your voice down, we’re meant to be hiding. And you love my feet, Bri.”

Brian sighed, too tired to argue, and finding it just slightly hilarious. It was good to have the antics back. And Roger being a prick felt very homely. 

They chatted for a while about nonsense, keeping as quiet as they could but nobody was too worried about being found. They were deep within the building, and confident that they had left no trail. It was relaxing in the low light, separate from the rest of the world, but safe. Roger lay like a princess with Freddie braiding his hair (and Brian slowly tying his laces together), whilst John slowly edged his seat over so he was next to Brian, leaning onto him with catlike grace. Whether it was to keep warm, or just a gentle form of John Deacon affection, it was appreciated. 

“We need to talk about our plan. For tomorrow.” 

The mood instantly dropped. It seemed, like Brian, everyone had become happy with ignoring the problem. 

“Sorry dear.” Freddie appologised to Roger, who let out a groan of discomfort, and sat up. “But we were very fortunate to get out of that alive. We need to take less risks.”

“Roads are an issue.” John explained, voice sleepy. “They’ll spot us instantly.”

“So keep to the ruins as we have been. The buildings are more intact around the wall anyway, we should be okay.” 

“What about the wall? I think they might be waiting for us at the gate.” Roger mumbled from Freddie’s lap.

Freddie looked to Brian, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Yeah. Three options, I guess. We find another gate, we try and find a way through it, or we climb over it.” He replied, explaining things simply to the group. 

“Another gate?” 

“I haven’t seen any. And it looks pretty well reinforced. We might struggle to get through it quietly.” 

Freddie sighed. “Well shit. Hope you’ve been working on your climbing, Brian darling.” 

“So that’s a plan right? Can we go to sleep now?” By this point, Roger had practically melted into Freddie. To the side of Brian, John also had his eyes shut, despite actively participating in the conversation. Brian didn’t imagine that they’d had any sleep either, they’d must have been up waiting the entire time. 

And he was feeling the tiredness too. Although he could have stayed up all night reading, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he could negotiate with the others and bring some with him. If not, it was nice enough to know the place even existed. 

No, it was worth getting some sleep. It’s not as if the torch light would last anyway. 

It was a good sleep. Brian took the first watch, being the only one who wasn’t about to pass out, and then must have slept for eight or nine hours. Even despite his cramped position and the lack of blankets, he woke well rested. 

The room was still dark, but with a slight glow. The sun must have been high in the sky, which made sense; he had been asleep for a while. One advantage of their lack of provisions was it was quick to pack up, and Brian had everything in the bag neatly by the time Roger and John returned from checking the perimeter. He managed to fit the book he was reading in as well, neatly slotted down one of the sides. 

There was quiet amongst the four of them, but a still confidence. They were free, and they were heading home to safety. Brian had had enough of London for the time being. He wanted to come back, of course, but when this was hopefully all over. 

Maybe the four of them could make a trip of it. 

Roger and John took time checking around the building. They were the stealthiest, and least likely to get in trouble if they were spotted. After packing, Brian watched Freddie as he folded something out of paper, tearing it and making a mess on the floor. 

“What are you doing now, Fred?” He asked, despairing at the scattering of paper on the floor. 

He smiled, twisting the paper and then held it out to show Brian. It was a paper flower, sitting delicately in the palm of his hand.

“Beautiful. How did you do that?”

“There was a book on paper folding, quite delightful really.” 

Brian laughed. “Are you going to give it to your lady?”

“Don’t call him that, he’ll kill you.” Freddie smiled, hiding the paper rose in a clasped hand. 

Roger came back alone a few minutes later, dragging his feet slightly as he wandered in. 

“Where’s John?” Asked Brian instantly.

Roger shrugged. “Dunno. Was looking through the books.”

“Hey Roger darling, come here.” Freddie called, holding out the flower.

“Is this for me?” He laughed. “You soppy piece of shit.” He picked it up out of Freddie’s hand and inspected it. 

“Do you like it?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Love it.”

“And I’m the soppy one.”

Brian laughed, watching the whole affair. “You two are like an old married couple. Are we ready to go Rog?”

“Yeah. Just waiting for John.”

“I’m ready.” Brian turned to see John, leaning on the door frame away from the others. He was holding a book behind crossed arms. 

“What have you got there?” Brian asked curiously.

“Oh. It’s for you. You said how you liked looking at the stars, when we talked all that time ago. It’s about space. And it’s small too.”

John handed it to him. A small book, about the size of his hand, with a black cover decorated with silver stars.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to-”

“It’s alright.” he smiled, cheeks slightly pink and eyes looking down at the floor.

Roger and Freddie stood to the side. Time passed and Brian was aware he should say something. He couldn’t think of what to say. 

Laughing, Roger broke the tension. “Who’s the soppy one now?”

John shot him a glare and the laughter teetered out. 

“Sorry. Are we ready then?”

“I think so.” 

Brian looked around his companions, they stood stoically. Nobody looked scared any more. 

“Okay.” Freddie nodded with confidence. “Let's do this.”

\----------

For once, they managed to stick to the plan for more than five minutes. Moving through the rubble wasn’t easy, Brian struggling in particular due to his choice of footwear and lack of dexterity, but it was worth it for the security. 

Alarms could no longer be heard, and they saw no evidence of any rebels, despite the light of the midday sun. It was a scorching hot day, but keeping to the shadows meant they avoided the worst of it, unable to afford any water breaks at risk of being seen or running through supplies too quickly. 

The gentle slope they headed down soon flattened out, and the buildings were more held together; no longer piles of rubble, more like shells of houses burnt out by bombings. There was nothing left in them, excluding some of the larger buildings- like the library- which had been boarded up and protected, but it was still difficult to climb through. Brian’s body ached by the time they could see the wall. 

It was less impressive from the other side, dwarfed by the skyscrapers behind it. But it still looked like an impossible obstacle. The concrete supports were visible from far away, cementing the fact that they couldn’t simply go through the wall. They were going to have to climb over it. 

Waiting in an alleyway opposite the wall, they stood for a few minutes. Watching. Listening. It was so quiet, Brian could hear nothing but his pulse beating in his ears. 

After confirming there was no immediate threat, they began looping their way around the road, looking for a good place to cross the wall. John and Roger were in charge of making that decision, and so were conversing quietly, whilst Freddie and Brian followed silently, just paces behind. 

They stopped by a house that had slightly fallen down, leaving it at an incline that reached halfway to the top of the wall. Brian didn’t want to climb up here, but even he had to admit it looked like the best option. 

He didn’t even want to think about the drop on the other side.

Roger made his way up first, carefully (or about as carefully as Roger could be) finding a pathway up the wall that would be safe for all of them. Once he was past the halfway mark, he signalled with a tilt of the head for the others to join him. 

Taking a deep breath in, Brian stepped forward, hands flat against the concrete. The stone was hot from the sun, which was directly above them in the sky. He looked up briefly, not a cloud in sight. Maybe they should wait for some shadows, there was no cover from the weather as it was.

There wasn’t much point going back now, not when Roger was nearing the top and John was hot on his heels. Concentrating on getting himself up, Brian used any available foothold, pushing up with strong thighs and using his arms mainly to stabalise himself. It was a wobbly effort, but he had gotten further ahead than Freddie (who was still wearing heeled boots, and took more of a crawling approach). 

“Here.” Suddenly there was a hand in Brian’s field of view. He looked up to see John, balancing on the plateu at the top of the wall, holding an arm down. “I’ll help you up.”

Brian took it gratefully. John lifted him up the rest of the way without any struggle. 

“Thanks.” He muttered, stopping just short of the top of the wall, so he could just see over. 

Brushing his hands off, John looked off into the distance silently. You could see a long way from this height they were at, over even to the ruins of the wall they were supposed to be guarding. That lie felt like a lifetime ago, even though it had only been days. 

Roger was calling down to Freddie, who was complaining quietly, but refusing any help as he crawled up, nearly level with Brian. 

“See anything of interest?” John asked, looking out over the city with Brian.

“Yeah. Well, most of it, I suppose.” His eyes caught on the buildings, skyscrapers that still stood. They were so still. He didn’t suppose they were ever such gentle giants back in the days of old. 

City watching was all well and good, but they needed to get over the wall. Pulling his elbows onto the plateu, Brian was about to hoist himself up, when something caught his eye. Part of the glass in the sky scraper had something moving. Glistening, a reflection by the looks of it. He looked behind him, there were no clouds or anything that could cause such a thing. 

Logically, he should have dismissed such a tiny thing, but there was a feeling in his stomach. Something was off. 

“Somethings wrong.”

His eyes caught the reflection again. Something was moving behind them, with something metallic that caught the sunlight.

“We need to get off here.”

Without registering what he was doing, he had grabbed John and pulled him forwards, tumbling down the wall as fast as he could.

Not fast enough. 

Brian was falling down, and there were explosions, and pain, and then silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last cliffhanger, I promise...


End file.
